UC-NRLF 


B    2    fl35    723 


•it/ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

GIFT  OF 

Professor 
George  Stewart 


st«tkMM0n  Day. 

374  Pearl  Street, 
183f> 


92*1 


<_ 

WORKS 

OP 

DR.    BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN, 

CONSISTING  OP 

ESSAYS, 

HUMOUROUS,  MORAL,  AND  LITERARY, 

WITH 
HIS  LIFE, 

WRITTEN   BY  HIMSELF. 


NEW-YORK . 
MAHLON  DAY  &  CO. 

374  Pearl  StraoU 


1OAN  STACK 

GIFT 


PREFACE 

BY   THE    EDITOR. 


AS  biography  is  a  species  of  history  which  record 
the  lives  and  characters  of  remarkable  persons 
it  consequently  becomes  an  interesting  subject,  and 
is  of  general  utility.  It  would  be  but  fair  to  assert, 
that  almost  every  civilized  nation  on  the  globe  has, 
at  one  period  or  other,  produced  distinguished  indi 
viduals  in  various  stations  of  life. 

Mr.  Jefferson,  tho  President  of  the  United  States 
of  America,  in  his  "  Notes  on  Virginia,"  thus  speaks 
in  answer  to  the  assertion  of  the  Abbe  Raynai,  tnat 
44  America  has  not  yet  produced  one  good  poet,  one 
able  mathematician,  one  ma,i  of  genius,  in  A  single 
art,  or  a  single  science." — "  When  we  shall  hiveexist- 
isted  as  a  nation,"  says  Mr.  J.  "  as  long  as  the  Greeks 
did  before  they  produced  a  Homer,  the  Romans  a 
Virgil,  the  French  a  Racine  and  Voltaire,  the  English 
a  Shakespea-re  and  Milton,  should  this  reproach  be 
still  true,  we  will  inquire  fom  what  unfriendly  causes 
it  has  proceeded,  that  the  other  countries  of  Europe 
and  quarters  of  the  earth  shall  not  have  inscribed  any 
name  in  the  roll  of  poets.  In  war  we  nave  produced 
a  Washington,  whose  memory  will  be  adored  whil 
liberty  shall  have  votaries  ;  whose  name  will  triumph 
over  time,  and  will  in  future  ages  assume  its  just 
station  among  the  most  celebrated  worthies  of  tiia 
world,  when  that  wretched  philosophy  shall  be  for 
gotten  which  would  arrange  him  among  the  degene 
racies  of  nature.  In  physics,  we  have  produced  a 
FRANKLIN,  than  whom  no  one  of  the  present  age  1ms 


819 


i 


7i  PREFACE. 

made  raore  important  discoveries,  nor  has  enriched 
philosophy  with  more,  or  more  ingenious  solutions  of 
the  phenomena  of  nature.  We  have  supposed  Mr. 
Rittenhouse  second  to  no  astronomer  living ;  that  in 
genius  he  must  be  the  first,  because  he  is  self- 
taught,"  &c. 

In  philosophy,  England  can  boast  of  a  Bacon  the 
most  eminent  professor  in  this  science  the  world  has 
ever  produced.  The  Essays  of  this  great  writer  is 
one  of  the  best  proofs  we  can  adduce  of  -his  tran 
scendent  abilities ;  and  America  claims  the  enlight 
ened  FRANKLIN,  a  man  who  has  not  left  his  equal  be 
hind  him,  and  whose  Life  and  Writings  are  the  sub 
ject  of  the  following  sheets. 

To  say  more  in  this  place  of  our  Author,  would  be 
anticipating  what  is  hereafter  mentioned:  it  will 
therefore  only  be  necessary  to  add,  that  due  atten 
tion  has  been  paid  in  the  selection  of  such  of  his  pro 
ductions  as  may  be  adapted  to  general  perusal. 


CONTENTS. 


LIFE  of  Dr.  Franklin,  as  written  by  Himself  -  9 

Continuation  of  his  Life  by  Dr.  Stuber  88 

Extracts  from  his  Will  -        -        -       •-/      •  130 

On  Early  Marriages 138 

On  the  Death  of  his  Brother,  Mr.  John  Frank 
lin          140 

To  the  late  Dr.  Mather,  of  Boston  -        -  141 
The  Whistle,  a  true  Story,  written  to  his  Ne 
phew      143 

A  Petition  of  the  Left  Hand  ....  144 

The  Handsome  and  Deformed  Leg        •        •  146 
Conversation  of  a  Company  ofEpIiemcrae;  with 

the  Soliloquy  of  one  advanced  in  Age      •  148 

Morals  of  Chess    -        •        -        -        -        -  150 

The  Art  of  procuring  Pleasant  Dreams  -        •  154 

Advice  to  a  Young  Tradesman       -        -        -  159 

Necessary  Hints  to  those  vhat  would  be  Rich  -  161 
The  Way  to  make  Money  plenty  in  every 

Man's  Pocket. 162 

An  Economical  Project          ....  163 

Sketch  of  an  Engligh  School  ....  168 
On  modern  Innovations  in  the  English  Lan 
guage  and  in  Printing      -        -        -         -174 
An  Account  of  the  highest  Court  of  Judicature 

in  Pennsylvania,  viz.  the  Court  of  the  Press  180 

Paper:  a  Poem      -        .'--'.        .        -  184 

On  the  Art  of  Swimming       ....  186 

New  Mode  of  Bathing 188 

Observations  on  the  generally-prevailing  Doc 
trines  of  Life  and  Death  ...        -  190 
Precautions  to  be  used  by  those  who  are  about 

to  undertake  a  Sea  Voyage      ...  192 

On  Luxury,  Idleness,  and  Industry         -        -  197 

On  the  Slave  Tr?de       -        -        -        -    /    -  201 

Observafe          Vw    •       •                        •  205 


vih  CONTENTS 

On  the  Impress  of  Seamen      ....      206 
On  the  Criminal  Laws,  and  the  Practice  of 

Privateering  -        -        -        -        -        •      210 
Remarks  concerning  the  Savages  of  North 

America 217 

To  Mr.  Dubourg,  concerning  the  Dissentions 

between  England  and  America        .        .      224 
Comparison  of  the  Conduct  of  the  Ancient 
Jews,  and   of  tne  Antifederalists  in  the 
United  States  of  America        -        -        -          225 

Nautical  Affairs 229 

Positions  to  be  examined        ....      233 
Preliminary  Address  to  the  Pennsylvania  Al 
manack,  entitled  "  Poor  Richard's  Alma 
nack,  for  the  year  1758"  -      236 
The  Internal  State  of  America ;  being  a  true 
Description  of  the  Interest  and  Policy  of 
that  vast  Continent         ....      246 
Information  to  those  who  would  remove  to 

America 252 

Thoughts  on  Commercial  Subjects          -        -      261 
American  White-washing      -        •        -        -      267 

Answer  to  the  Above 274 

Final  Speech  of  Dr.  Franklin  in  the  late  Fede 
ral  Convention        .....      279 
Preference  of  Bows  and  Arrows  in  War  to 

Fire-Arms      -•».--      281 
OP  the  Theory  of  the  Earth  283 

Loose  Thoughts  on  an  Universal  Fluid  -      287 


LIFE 

or 

DR.  FRANKLIN. 


MV    DEAR   SON, 

1  HAVE  amused  myself  with  collecting  some  bttle 
anecdotes  of  my  family.  You  may  remember  the 
inquiries  I  made,  when  you  were  with  me  in  Eng 
land,  among  such  of  my  relations  as  were  then  liv- 


flatter  myself  will  afford  the  same  pleasure  to  yon  as 
to  me.  I  shall  relate  them  upon  paper:  it  will  he  an 
agreeable  employment  of  a  week's  uninterrupted 
leisure,  which  I  promise  myself  during  my  present 
retirement  in  the  country.  There  are  also  other  mo 
tives  which  induce  me  to  the  undertaking.  From  the 
bosom  of  poverty  and  obscurity,  in  wruch  I  drew  my 
first  breath,  and  spent  my  earliest  years,  I  have  raised 
myself  to  a  state  of  opulence,  and  to  some  degree  of 
celebrity  in  the  world.  A  constant  good  fortune  has 
attended  me  through  every  period  of  life  to  my  pres 
ent  advanced  age ;  and  my  descendants  niay'be  de 
sirous  of  learning  what  were  the  means  of  which  I 
made  use,  and  which,  thanks  to  the  assisting  hand  of 
Providence,  have  proved  so  eminently  successful.— 
They  may  also,  should  they  ever  be  placed  in  a  p- 
milar  situation,  derive  some  advantage  from  my  nar< 
rative. 

When  I  reflect,  as  1  frequently  do,  upon  the  felicity 
I  hare  enjoyed,  I  sometimes  say  to  myself,  that  were 
the  offer  made  true  I  would  engage  to  run  again,  from 


fO  LIFE  Of 

beginning  to  end,  the  same  career  of  life.  AH  « 
would  ask,  should  be  the  privilege  of  an  author,  to 
correct,  in  a  second  edition,  certain  errors  of  the  first. 
I  could  wish,  likewise,  if  it  were  in  my  power,  to 
change  some  trivial  incidents  and  events  ibr  others 
more  favourable.  Were  this,  however,  denied  me, 
still  would  I  not  decline  the  offer.  But  since  a  re 
petition  of  life  cannot  take  place,  there  is  nothing 
which,  in  my  opinion,  so  nearly  resembles  it,  as  to 
call  to  mind  all  its  circumstances,  and,  to  reiidei 
their  reciembrance  more  durable,  commit  them  to 
writing.  By  thus  emptying  myself,  I  shall  yield  tc 
the  inclination,  so  natural  in  old  men,  to  talk  of 
themselves  and  their  exploits,  and  may  freely  follow 
my  bunt,  without  being  tiresome  to  those  who,  from 
respect  to  my  age,  might  think  themselves  obliged  to 
listen  to  me;  as  they  will  be  at  liberty  to  read  me  01 
not  as  they  please.  In  fine — and  I  may  as  well  avow 
it,  since  nobody  would  believe  me  were  I  to  deny  it— 
1  shall,  perhaps,  by  this  employment,  gratify  my  vani 
ty.  Scarcely,  indeed,  have  I  ever  heard  or  read  the 
introductory  phrase,  "  /  may  say  witiiout  vanity,"  but 
some  striking  and  characteristic  instance  of  vanity 
has  immediately  followed.  The  generality  of  men 
nate  vanity  in  others,  however  strongly  they  may  be 
tinctured  with  it  themselves :  for  myself;  I  pay  obei 
sance  to  it  whereve/  I  meet  with  it,  persuaded  that  it 
is  advantageous,  as  well  to  the  individual  whom  it 
governs,  as  to  those  who  are  within  the  sphere  of  its 
influence.  Of  consequence,  it  would,  in  many  cases, 
not  be  wholly  absurd,  that  a  man  should  count  his 
vanity  among  the  other  sweets  of  life,  and  give  thanks 
:o  Providence  for  the  blessing. 

And  here  let  me  with  all  humility  acknowledge  that 
to  Divine  Providence  I  am  indebted  for  the  felicity  I 
have  hitherto  enjoyed.  It  is  that  power  alone  which 
has  furnished  me  with  the  means  I  have  employed, 
and  that  has  crowned  them  with  success.  My  faith, 
in  this  respect,  leads  me  to  hope,  though  I  cannot 
count  upon  it,  that  the  Divine  goodness  will  still  be 
eiercised  towards  me,  either  by  prolonging  the  dura* 
toon  of  my  happiness  to  the  close  of  life,  or  by  giving 
ins  fortitude  to  support  any  melancholy  reverse,  which 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  11 

may  happen  to  me,  as  to  so  many  others.  My  future 
fortune  is  unknown  but  to  Him  in  whose  hand  is  our 
destiny,  and  who  can  make  our  very  afflictions  sub- 
ifirvient  to  our  benefit. 

One  of  my  uncles,  desirous,  like  myself,  of  collect 
ing  anecdutes  of  our  family,  gave  me  some  notes, 
from  which  1  have  derived  many  particulars  respect 
ing  our  ancestors.  From  these  I  learn,  that  they  had 
lived  hi  the  same  village  (Eaton,  in  Northampton 
shire,)  upon  a  freehold  of  about  thirty  acres,  for  the 
space  at  least  of  three  hundred  years.  How  long 
they  had  resided  there,  prior  to  that  period,  my  uiicle 
had  been  unable  to  discover;  probably  ever  since  the 
institution  of  surnames,  when  they  took  the  appella 
tion  of  Franklin,  which  had  formerly  been  the  name 
of  a  particular  order  of  individuals.* 

This  petty  estate  would  not  have  sufficed  for  their 
Whbsistence,  had  they  not  added  the  trade  of  biack- 

*  As  a  proof  that  Franklin  was  anciently  the  common 
name  of  an  order  or  rank  in  Kngland,  see  Judge  Fortesque, 
/)«  laudibus  Ifgum  .finglia,  written  about  the  year  1412,  in 
which  is  the  following  passage,  to  show  that  good  juries 
might  easily  be  formed  in  any  part  of  Eng.aud  : 

11  Regie  etinm  ilia,  ita  respersa  refertaque  esipossessoribui 
terrarum  et  agrorum,  quod  in  ea  villula  tarn  parva  reperiri 
Don  poterit,  in  qua  non  est  wi/e*,  armi£«r,  vel  patex-faniilian, 
qualii  ibidemyVan/c/m  vulgaritur  nuncupatur,  magnis  ditatui 
possessicnibua,  nee  non  libere  tenenlesetalii  vaiecti  plurimi, 
•uis  patrimoniis  sufficientes,  &d  faciendum  jura  tarn,  jo  forma 
pnenotata." 

••  Moreover,  the  lame  country  is  so  filled  and  replenished 
with  landed  rnenne,  that  therein  so  small  a  thorpe  cannot  ba 
found  wherein  dwelleth  not  a  knight,  an  enquire,  or  such  a 
householder  as  is  there  commonly  called  a  franklin,  en 
riched  vilh  great  possessions  ;  and  also  other  freeholders  and 
many  yeomen,  able  for  their  livelihood  to  make  a  jury  in 
form  aforementioned."  Old  Trantlation. 

Chaucer  tnnm  calls  his  country-gentleman  &  franklin  ;  and, 
after  describing  his  good  housekeeping,  thus  characterize* 
bun : 

This  worthy  franklin  bore  a  purse  of  silk 

Kii'd  to  his  girdle,  white  as  morning  milk; 

Knight  of  the  shire,  first  justice  «t  th*  assize, 

To  help  the  poor,  the  doubtful  to  advise. 

In  all  employments,  generous,  just,  he 

Retwwn'd  for  courtasy.  by  all  b«br'<L 
1   * 


12  LIFE  OF 

smith,  which  was  perpetuated  in  the  family  down  t5 
my  uncle's  time,  the  eldest  son  having  been  uniform 
ly  brought  up  to  this  employment :  a  custom  which 
both  he  anci  my  father  observed  with  respect  to  their 
«*ldest  sons. 

In  the  researches  I  made  at  Eaton,  I  found  no  ac 
count  of  their  births,  marriages,  and  deaths,  earlier 
than  the  year  1555  ;  the  parish  register  not  extending 
farther  back  than  that  period.  This  register  informed 
me,  that  I  was  the  youngest  son  of  the  youngest  branch 
m  the  family,  counting  five  generations.  My  grand 
father,  Thomas,  was  born  in  "i598>  lived  at  Eaton  till 
\ie  was  too  old  to  continue  his  trade,  when  he  retired 
to  Banbury,  in  Oxfordshire,  where  his  son  John,  who 
was  a  dier,  resided,  and  with  whom  my  father  was 
apprenticed.  He  died,  and  was  buried  there:  we 
sow  his  monument  in  1758.  His  eldest  son  lived  in 
the  family  house  at  Eaton,  which  he  bequeathed,  with 
the  laiid  belonging  to  it,  to  his  only  daughter ;  who, 
in  concert  with  her  husband,  Mr.  Fisher,  of  Welling- 
borough,  afterwards  sold  it  to  Mr.  Estead,  the  present 
proprietor.  *•-•-  •- 

My  grandfather  had  four  surviving  sons,  Thotnasj 
John,  Benjamin,  and  Josias.  I  shall  give  you  such 
particulars  of  them  as  my  memory  will  furnish,  not 
having  my  papers  here,  iix  which  you  will  find  a  more 
minute  account,  if  they  are  not  lost  during  my  ab 
sence.  & 

Thomas  had  learned  the  trade  of  a  blacksrnftfl 
under  his  father;  but,  possessing  a  good  natuial  un 
derstanding,  be  improved  it  by  study,  at  the  solicita 
tion  of  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Palmer,  who  was 
at  that  time  the  principal  inhabitant  of  the  village,  and 
who  encouraged,  in  like  manner,  all  my  uncles  to 
cultivate  their  minds.  Thomas  thus  rendered  him 
self  competent  to  the  functions  of  a  country  attorney; 
soon  became  ?n  essentiO  personage  in  the  affairs  of 
the  village ;  and  was  one  of  the  chief  movers  of  every 
public,  enterprise,  as  well  relative  to  the  county  as  the 
^wn  of  Northampton.  A  variety  of  remarkable  in- 
"Mei\  is  were  told  us  of  him  at  Eaton.  After  enjo^ icg 
fciie  etleein  and  patronage  of  Lord  Halifax,  he  dieti 
January  6,  1702,  precisely  four  years  before  I  was 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  13 

born.  The  recital  that  was  made  us  of  his  life  and 
character,  by  some  aged  persons  of  the  village,  struck 
you,  I  remember,  as  extraordinary,  from  its  analogy 
to  what  you  knew  of  myself.  "  Had  he  died,"  said 
you,  "just  four  years  later,  one  might  have  supposed 
a  transmigration  of  souls." 

John,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  was  brought  up  to 
the  trade  of  a  wool-dier. 

Benjamin  served  his  apprenticeship  in  London  to 
A  silk-dier.  He  was  an  industrious  man :  I  remem 
ber  him  well ;  for,  while  I  was  a-cluld,  he  joined  my 
father  at  Boston,  and  lived  for  some  years  in  the  house 
with  us.  A  particular  affection  had  always  subsisted 
l»etween  my  father  and  him;  and  1  was  his  god-son. 
He  arrived  to  a  great  age.  He  left  behind  him  two 
quarto  volumes  of  poems  in  manuscript,  consistir^  of 
little  fugitive  pieces  addressed  to  his  friends.  He  had 
invented  a  short-hand,  which  he  taught  me,  but,  liay- 
ing  never  made  use  of  it,  I  have  now  forgotten  it- 
He  was  a  man  of  piety,  and  a  constant  attendant  on 
the  best  preachers,  whose  sermons  he  took  a  pleasure 
in  writing  down  according  to  the  expeditory  method 
he  had  devised.  Many  volumes  were  thus  collected 
by  him.  He  was  also  extremely  fend  of  politics ;  too 
much  so,  perhaps,  for  his  situation.  I  lately  found 
in  London  a  collection  which  he  had  made  of  all  the 
principal  pamphlets  relative  to  public  affairs,  from 
the  year  1641  to  1717.  Many  volumes  are  wanting, 
as  appears  by  the  series  of  numbers ;  but  there  siiil 
remain  eight  in  folio,  and  twenty-four  in  quarto  and 
»>ctavo.  The  collection  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
a  second-hand  bookseller,  who,  knowing  me  by  hav- 
>ng  sold  me  some  books,  brought  it  to  me.  My  uncle, 
k  seems,  had  left  it  behind  on  his  departure  for  Ameri 
ca,  about  fifty  years  ago.  I  found  various  notes  of 
his  writing  in  the  margins.  His  grandson,  Samuel,  is 
aow  living  at  Boston. 

Our  humble  family  had  early  embraced  the  Refor 
mation.  They  remained  faithfully  attached  during 
the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  when  they  were  in  danger 
of  being  molested  on  account  of  their  zeal  against  po 
pery.  Tf§y  had  an  English  Bible,  and,  to  conceal 
it  lie  raoro  securely ,*ehey  conceived  the  project  of 


I«  LIFE  OF 

fastening  it,  open,  with  pack-threads  across  the  leaves, 
on  the  inside  of  the  lid  of  the  close-stooL  When  my 
great-grandfather  wished  to  read  to  his  family,  lie  re- 
versed  the  lid  of  the  close-stool  upon  his  knees,  and 
passed  the  leaves  from  one  side  to  the  other,  wh>ch 
were  held  down  on  each  by  the  pack-thread.  Om 
of  the  children  was  stationed  at  the  door,  to  give  no 
tice  if  he  saw  the  proctor  (an  officer  of  the  spiritual 
court)  make  his  appearance:  in  that  case,  the  lid  wai 
restored  to  its  »lace;  with  the  Bible  concealed  undei 
it  as  before,  f  had  this  anecdote  from  my  uncle  Ben 
jamin. 

The  whole  family  preserved  its  attachment  to  the 
Church  of  England  till  towards  the  close  of  the  reign 
of  Charles  II.  when  certain  ministers,  who  had  been 
rejected  as  nonconformists,  having  held  conventicles 
in  Northamptonshire,  they  vvcie  joined  by  Benjamin 
and  Josias,  who  adhered  to  them  ever  after.  The  rest 
of  the  family  continued  in  the  episcopal  church. 

My  father,  Josias,  married  early  in  life.  He  went, 
with  his  wife  and  three  children,  to  New-England, 
about  the  year  1682.  Couventlcles  being  at  that  time 
prohibited  by  law,  and  frequently  disturbed,  some 
considerable  persons  of  his  acquaintance  determined 
to  go  to  America,  where  they  hoped  to  enjoy  the  free 
exercise  cf  their  religion,  and  my  father  was  prevailed 
on  to  accompany  them. 

My  father  had  also,  by  the  same  wife,  four  children 
born  in  America,  and  ten  others  by  a  second  wife, 
making  in  all  seventeen.  1  remember  to  have  seen 
thirteen  seated  together  at  his  table,  who  all  arrived 
at  years  of  maturity,  and  were  married.  I  was  the 
last  of  the  sons,  and  the  youngest  child,  excepting 
two  daughters.  I  was  born  at  Boston,  in  New-Eng 
land.  My  mother,  the  second  wile,  was  Abiah  Fol- 
ger,  daughter  of  Peter  Folgor,  one  of  the  first  colonists 
of  New  •England,  of  whom  Cotton  Mather  makes  hon 
ourable  mention,  in  his  Ecclesiastical  History  of  that 
province,  as  "  a  pious  and  learned  Englishman?  if  1 
rightly  recollect  his  expression.  I  have  been  told  of 
nis  having  written  a  variety  of  little  piece^but  there 
appears  to  be  only  one  in  print,  which  Whet  with 
many  years  ago.  It  was  published  in  the  year  1675, 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  *  IS 

and  is  in  familiar  verse,  agreeably  to  the  taste  of  the 
limes  and  the  country.  The  author  addresses  himself 
U>  die  governors  for  the  time  being,  speaks  for  liberty  of 
conscience,  and  in  favour  of  the  anabaptists,  quakers, 
and  other  sectaries,  who  had  suffered  persecution. 
To  this  persecution  he  attribute?  the  wars  with  the 
natives,  and  other  calamities  which  afflicted  the  coun 
try,  regarding  them  as  the  judgments  of  God  in  pun 
ishment  of  so  odious  an  offence,  and  he  exhorts  tho 
government  to  the  repeal  of  laws  so  contrary  to 
i iiarity.  The  poem  appeared  to  be  written  with  a 
manly  freedom  and  a  pleasing  simplicity.  I  recollect 
the  six  concluding  lines,  though  I  have  forgotten  the 
order  of  words  of  the  two  firsl;  the  sense  of  which 
was,  that  his  censures  were  dictated  by  benevolence, 
and  that,  of  consequence,  he  wished  to  be  known  as 
the  author;  because,  said  he,  1  hate  from  my  very 
«oul  dissimulation. 

From  Sherburn,*  where  I  dwell, 

I  therefore  put  my  name, 
Your  friend,  who  means  you  well, 

PETER  FOLGER. 

My  brothers  were  all  put  apprentices  to  different 
trades.  With  respect  to  myself,  I  was  sent,  at  the 
age  of  eight  years,  to  a  grammar-school.  My  father 
destined  me  for  the  church,  and  already  regarded 
me  as  the  chaplain  of  my  family.  The  promptitude 
with  which,  from  my  infancy,  1  had  learned  to  read, 
for  I  do  not  remember  to  have  been  ever  without  this 
acquirement,  and  the  encouragement  of  his  friends, 
who  assured  him  that  1  should  one  day  certainly  be 
come  a  man  of  letters,  confirmed  him  in  this  design. 
My  uncle  Benjamin  approved  also  of  the  scheme,  and 
promised  to  give  me  all  his  volumes  of  seimons,  writ 
ten,  as  I  have  said,  in  the  short-hand*  of  his  {inven 
tion,  if  1  would  take  the  pains  to  learn  it. 

I  remained,  however,  scarcely  a  year  at  the  gram 
mar-school,  although,  in  this  short  interval,  I  had  risen 
from  the  middle  to  the  head  of  my  class,  from  thenc« 

•  Tottn  in  the  ialand  of  Nan  tucket. 


16  LIFE  OF 

to  the  class  immediately  above,  and  was  to  pass,  at 
the  end  of  the  year,  to  the  one  next  in  order.  But 
my  father,  burdened  with  a  numerous  family,  found 
that  he  was  incapable,  without  subjecting  himself  to 
difficulties,  of  providing  for  the  expepses  of  a  colie- 
giate  education  ;  and  considering,  besides,  as  I  hearo 
him  say  to  his  friends,  that  persons  so  educated  were 
often  poorly  provided  for,  he  renounced  his  first  inten 
tions,  took  me  from  the  grammar-school,  and  sent  mfl 
to  a  school  for  writing  and  arithmetic,  kept  by  a  Mu 
George  JBrownwell,  who  was  a  skilful  master,  and 
succeeded  very  well  in  his  profession  by  employing, 
gentle  means  only,  and  such  as  were  calculated  to 
encourage  his  scholars.  Under  him,  I  soon  acquired 
an  excellent  hand;  but  I  failed  hi  arithmetic,  and 
made  therein  no  sort  of  progress. 

At  ten  3Te3.rs  of  age,  I  was  called  home  to  assist  m* 
father  in  his< occupation,  which  was  that  of  soap-boile» 
and  tallow-chandler;  a  business  to  which  ne  had 
served  no  apprenticeship,  but  which  he  embraced  oa 
his  arrival  in  New  England,  because  he  found  his  own, 
that  of  dier,  in  too  little  request  to  enable  him  to 
maintain  his  family.  I  was  accord "uigly  employed  fei 
cutting  the  wicks,  filling  the  moulds,  taking  care  of 
the  shop,  carrying  messages,  &c. 

This  business  displeased  me,  and  I  felt  a  strong 
inclination  for  a  sea  life ;  but  my  father  set  his  face 
against  it.  The  vicinity  of  the  water,  howevrr,  gave 
me  frequent  opportunities  of  venturing  mysrlf  both 
upon  and  within  it,  and  I  soon  acquired  the  art  of 
swimming  and  of  managing  a  boat.  When  embark 
ed  with  other  children,  the  helm  was  commonly  de 
puted  to  me,  particularly  on  difficult  occasions  ;  andp 
in  every  other  project,  I  was  almost  always  the  lead 
er  of  the  troop,  whom  I  sometimes  involved  in  em 
barrassments.  I  shall  give  an  instance  of  this,  which 
demonstrates  an  early  disposition  of  mind  for  public 
enterprises,  though  the  one  in  question  was  not  con 
ducted1  by  justice. 

The  mill-pond  was  terminated  on  one  s\c*.e  by  a 
march,  upon  the  borders  of  which  we  were  accus 
tomed  to  take  our  stand,  at  high  water,  to  a  yje  for 
small  fish.  By  dint  of  walking,  we  had  c<  r/rerted 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  1? 

perfect  quagmire.  My  proposal  was  to  erect  a  wharf 
tfiat  should  afford  us  firm  footing;  and  I  pointed  out 
to  my  companions  a  large  heap  of  stones,  intended 
for  the  building  a  new  house  near  the  marsh,  and 
which  were  well  adapted  for  our  purpose.  Accoii- 
ingly,  when  the  workmen  retired  m  the  evening,  1 
assembled  a  number  of  my  play-fellows,  and  by  la 
bouring  diligently,  like  ants,  sometimes  four  of  us  uni 
ting  our  strength  to  carry  a  single  stone,  we  removed 
hem  ail,  and  constructed  our  little  quay.  The  work 
men  were  surprised  the  next  morning  at  not  finding, 
their  stones,  which  had  been  conveyed  to  our  wharf' 
Inquiries  were  made  respecting  the  authors  of  this 
conveyance;  we  were  discovered;  complaints  were 
exhibited  against  us;  and  many  of  us  underwent 
correction  on  the  part  of  our  parents ;  and  though  I 
Strenuously  defended  the  utility  »f  the  work,  my  fa 
ther  at  length  convinced  me,  that  nothing  which  was 
not  strictly  honest  could  be  useful. 

It  will  not,  perhaps,  be  uninteresting  to  you  to  know 
what  sort  of  a  man  my  father  was.  He  had  an  ex 
cellent  constitution,  was  of  a  middle  size,  but  well 
made  and  strong,  and  extremely  active  in  whatever 
he  undertook,  lie  designed  with  a  degree  of  neatness, 
and  knew  a  little  of  music.  His  voice  was  sonorous 
and  agreeable;  so  that  when  he  sang  a  psalm  or 
hymn,  with  the  accompaniment  of  his  violin,  as  was 
his  frequent  practice  in  an  evening,  when  the  labours 
of  the  day  were  finished,  it  was  truly  delightful  to 
hear  him.  He  was  versed  also  in  mechanics,  and 
could,  upon  occasion,  use  the  tools  of  a  variety  of 
trades.  But  his  greatest  excellence  was  a  sound  un 
derstanding  and  solid  judgment,  in  matters  of  pru 
dence,  both  in  public  and  private  life.  In  the  former, 
indeed,  he  never  engaged,  because  his  numerous  fami- 
ry,  and  the  mediocrity  of  his  fortune,  kept  him  unre 
mittingly  employed  in  the  duties  of  his  profession. 
But  I  well  remember,  that  the  leading  men  of  the 
place  used  frequently  to  come  and  ask  his  advice  re 
specting  the  affairs  of  the  town,  or  of  the  church  to 
which  he  belonged,  and  that  they  paid  much  defer- 
tuce  to  his  opinion.  Individuals  were  also  in  the 


18  LIFE  OF 

iabit  of  consulting  him  in  their  private  affairs,  ami  he 
<vas  often  chosen  arbiter  between  contending  parties. 

He  was  fond  of  having  at  his  table,  as  often  as 
possible,  some  friends  or  well-informed  neighbours, 
«:a-pable  of  rational  conversation,  and  he  was  always 
careful  to  introduce  useful  or  ingenious  topics  of  dis 
course,  which  might  tend  to  form  the  minds  of  his 
children.  By  this  means  he  early  attracted  our  at 
tention  to  what  was  just,  prudent,  and  beneficial  in 
he  conduct  of  life.  Ke  never  talked  of  the  meat! 
which  appeared  upon  the  taMe,  never  discussed 
whether  they  were  weil  or  ill-dressed,  of  a  good  or 
bad  flavour,  high-seasoned  or  otherwise,  preferable 
or  inferior  to  this  or  that  dish  of  a  similar  kind. 
Thus  accustomed,  from  my  infancy,  to  the  utmost  in 
attention  as  to  these  objects,  I  have  been  perfectly  re 
gardless  of  what  kind  of  food  was  before  me  ;  and  1 
pay  so  little  attention  to  it  even  now,  that  it  would  be 
a  hard  matter  for  me  to  recollect,  a  few  hours  after  1 
had  dined,  of  what  my  dinner  had  consisted.  When 
travelling,  I  have  particularly  experienced  the  advan 
tage  of  this  habit ;  ibr  U  has  often  happened  to  me  to 
be  in  company  with  persons,  who,  having  a  moro 
delicate,  because  a  more  exercised  taste,  have- suffer 
ed  in  many  cases  considerable  iuc< mvenience  ;  while, 
as  to  myself,  I  have  had  nothing  to  desire. 

My  mother  was  likewise  possessed  of  an  excellent 
constitution.  She  suckled  all  her  ten  children,  and  1 
never  nea^d  either  her  or  my  father  complain  of  any 
other  disorder  than  that  of  which  they  died :  my  fa 
Itier  at.  the  agj  of  eighty-seven,  and  rny  mother  a* 
eighty-five.  They  are  buried  together  at  Boston, 
where,  a  few  years  ago,  I  placed  a  marble  over  their 
gave,  with  this  inscription : 

"  Here  lie 

•*  JOSJAS  FRANKLIN  and  ABIAH  his  wife :  They  lived 
"  together  with  reciprocal  affection  for  fifty-nWyears: 
**  and  without  private  fortune,  without  lucrative  em 
'*  ployment,  by  assiduous  labour  and  honest  industry 
•*  decently  supported  a  numerous  family,  and  educa 
"  ted  with  success,  thirteen  children,  and  seven  grand 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  19 

-*  children.  Lei  this  example,  reader,  encourage  the* 
"  diligently  to  discharge  the  duties  of  thy  calling,  and 
**  to  rely  on  the  support  of  Divine  Providence. 

**  He  was  pious  and  prudent, 
•*  She  discreet  and  virtuous. 

*  Their  youngest  son,  from  a  sentiment  of  fiiial  duty, 

44  consecrates  this  stone  to 

*'  their  memory." 

*  I  perceive,  by  my  rambling  digressions,  thai  I  an 
growing  old.  But  we  do  not  dress  for  a  private  com 
pany  as  for  a  formal  balL  This  deserves,  perhaps, 
the  name  of  negligence. 

To  return.  I  thus  continued  employed  in  my  fa 
therms  trade  for  the  space  of  two  years ;  that  is  to  say, 
till  I  arrived  at  twelve  years  of  age.  About  this 
time  my  brother  John,  who  had  served  his  appren 
ticeship  hi  London,  having  quitted  my  father,  and 
being  married  and  settled  in  business  on  his  own 
account  at  Rhode  Island,  I  was  destined,  to  all  ap- 
peaxance,  to  supply  his  place,  and  be  a  candle-maker 
all  my  life ;  but  my  dislike  of  this  occupation  con 
tinuing,  my  father  was  apprehensive,  that,  if  a  more 
agreeable.ione  were  not  offered  me,  I  might  play  the 
truant  and  escape  to  sea ;  as,  to  his  extreme  mortifi 
cation,  my  brotuer  Josias  had  done.  H«  therefore 
took  me  sometimes  to  see  masons,  coopers,  braziers, 
Joiners,  and  other  mechanics,  employed  at  their  work ; 
in  order  to  discover  the  bent  of  my  inclination,  and 
fix  it,  if  he  could,  upon  some  occupation  that  might 
retain  me  on  shore.  I  have  since,  in  consequence  of 
these  visits,  derived  no  small  nleasure  from  seeing 
Wilful  workmen  handle  Sheir  toois ;  and  it  has  proved 
cf  considerable  benefit,  to  have  acquired  thereby 
sufficient  knowledge  to  be  able  to  make  little  tilings 
for  myself,  when  I  have  had  no  mechanic  at  hand, 
and  to  construct  small  machines  for  rny  experiment*, 
while  the  idea  I  have  conceived  has  been  fresh  and 
strongly  impressed  on  my  imagination. 

My  father  at  length  decided  that  1  should  be  a  cut 
let,  and  I  was  placed  for  some  days  upon  trial  with 
aiy  cousin  Samuel,  son  of  my  uncle  Denjamin,  wno 


20  VLIFE  OF 

had  learned  this  trade  in  London,  and  had  established 
himself  at  Boston.  But  the  premium  he  required  fof 
my  apprenticeship  displeasing  my  father,  1  was  re 
called  home. 

From  my  earliest  years  I  had  been  passionately 
fond  of  riding,  and  1  laid  out  in  books  all  the  money 
I  could  procure.  I  was  particularly  pleased  wit);  ac 
counts  of  voyages.  My  iirst  acquisition  was  Bun*. 
yan's  collection  in  small  separate  volumes.  These  I 
afterwards  sold  in  order  to  buy  a  historical  collection 
by  R.  Burton,  which  consisted  of  small  cheap  volumes, 
amounting  in  all  to  about  forty  or  fifty.  My  father's 
little  library  was  principally  made  up  of  books  of 
practical  and  polemical  theology.  I  r«ad  the  great 
est  part  of  them.  I  have  since  often  regretted,  that 
at  a  time  when  I  had  so  great  a  thirst  for  knowledge, 
rnoro  eligible  books  had  not  fallen  into  my  hands,  as 
it  was  then  a  point  decided  that  1  should  not  be  edu 
cated  for  the  church.  There  was  also  among  my  fa 
ther's  books,  Plutarch's  Lives,  in  which  I  read  con 
tinually,  and  I  still  regard  as  advantageously  em 
ployed  the  time  I  devoted  to  them.  I  found  besides, 
a  work  of  De  Foe's,  entitled  an  Essay  on  Projects, 
from  which,  perhaps,  I  derived  impressions  that  have 
since  influenced  some  of  the  principal  events  of  my 
life. 

My  inclination  for  books  at  last  determined  my  fa 
ther  to  make  me  a  printer,  though  he  had  already  a 
son  in  that  p>rofessi®n.  My  brother  had  returned 
fcom  England  in  1717,  with  a  press  and  types,  iiUfcr- 
ier  to  establish  a  printing-house  at  Boston.  Thii 
business  pleased  me  much  better  than  that  of  my  fit- 
flier,  though  I  had  still  a  predilection  for  the  sea. 
To  prevent  the  effects  which  might  result  from  thii 
inclination,  my  father  was  impatient  to  see  me  en 
gaged  with  my  brother.  I  held  back  for  some  time ; 
atlength,  however,  I  suffered  myself  to  be  persuaded, 
and  signed  my  indentures,  being  then  only  twelve 
years  of  age.  It  was  agreed  that  I  should  serve  as  an 
apprentice  to  the  age  of  twenty-one,  and  should  re 
ceive  journeyman's  wages  only  during  the  last  year. 

In  a  very  short  time  I  made  great  proficiency  i* 
thifl  business,  and  became  very  serviceable  to  mj 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  SI 

brother.  I  had  now  an  opportunity  of  procuring  bet 
ter  books.  The  acquaintance  1  necessarily  formed 
with  booksellers'  apprentices,  enabled  me  to  borrow 
a  volume  now  and  then,  which  I  never  failed  to  re 
turn  punctually  and  without  injury.  How  often  hag 
it  happened  to  me  to  pass  the  greater  part  of  the  night 
in  reading  by  my  bed-side,  when  tho  book  had  been 
lent  me  in  the  evening,  and  was  to  be  returned  the 
next  morning,  lest  it  might  be  missed  or  wanted. 

At  length  Mr.  Matthew  Adams,  an  ingenious  trades 
man,  who  bad  a  handsome  collection  of  books,  and 
who  frequented  our  printing-house,  took  notice  of  me. 
He  iavited  me  to  see  his  library,  and  had  the  good 
ness  to  lend  me  any  books  I  was  desirous  of  reading. 
1  then  took  a  strange  fancy  for  poetry,  and  composed 
several  little  pieces.  My  brother,  thinking  he  might 
find  his  account  in  it,  encouraged  me,  and  engaged  me 
to  write  two  ballads.  One,  called  the  Light-house  Tra 
gedy,  contained  an  account  of  the  shipwreck  of  Cap 
tain  Worthilake  and  his  two  daughters;  the  other 
was  a  sailor's  song  on  the  capture  of  the  noted  pirate 
called  Teach,  or  Slack-beard.  They  were  wretched 
verses  in  point  of  style,  mere  blindmen's  ditties. 
When  printed,  he  despatched  rne  about  town  to  sell 
them.  The  first  had  a  prodigious  run,  because  the 
«vent  was  recent,  and  had  made  a  great  noise.  •« 

My  vanity  was  flattered  by  this  success ;  but  rav 
father  checked  my  exultation,  by  ridiculing  my  pro 
ductions,  and  telling  me  that  versiriers  were  alwaf* 
poor.  I  thus  escaped  the  misfortune  of  being  a  vetry 
wretched  poet  But  as  the  fac  ulty  of  writing  prose  has 
been  of  great  service  to  me  in  the  course  ot  my  life, 
and  principally  contributed  to  my  advancement,  I 
•hall  relate  by  what  means,  situated  as  I  was,  I  ac 
quired  the  small  skill  I  may  possess  in  that  way. 
,  There  was  hi  the  town  another  young  man,  a  gntat 
lover  of  books,  p/'  the  name  of  John  Collins,  with 
whom  I  was  intimately  connected.  We  frequently 
engaged  in  dispute,  and  were  indeed  so  fond  of  argu 
mentation,  that  nothing  was  so  agreeable  to  us  as  a 
war  of  words.  This  contentious  temper,  I  would  ob 
serve  by  the  by,  is  in  danger  of  becoming  a  very  bad 
babit,  and  frequently  renders  a  man's  company  in- 


22  LIFE  OF 

supportable,  as  being  no  otherwise  capable  of  indu) 
geuce  than  by  an  indiscriminate  contradiction.  In* 
dependency  of  the  acrimony  and  discord  it  intioducet 
into  conversation,  and  is  often  productive  of  dislike, 


gious  controversy.  1  have  since  remarked,  that  men 
cf  sense  seldom  fail  into  this  error;  lawyers,  fellows 
of  universities,  and  persons  of  every  profession  edu 
cated  at  Edinburgh,  excepted. 

Collins  and  I  fell  one  day  into  an  argument,  rela 
tive  to  the  education  of  women  ;  namely,  whether  it 
was  proper  to  instruct  them  in  the  sciences,  and 
whether  they  were  competent  to  the  study.  Collins 
supported  the  negative,  and  affirmed  that  the  task 
was  beyond  their  capacity.  I  maintained  the  oppo 
site  opinion,  a  little  perhaps  for  the  pleasure  of  dis 
puting.  He  was  naturally  more  eloquent  than  I; 
words  flowed  copiously  from  his  lips ;  and  frequently 
I  thought  myself  vanquished,  more  by  his  volubility 
than  by  the  force  of  his  arguments.  We  separated 
without  coming  to  an  agreement  upon  this  point,  atid 
as  we  were  not  to  see  each  other  again  for  some  time, 
I  committed  my  thoughts  to  paper,  made  a  fair  copy, 
and  sent  it  to  him.  He  answered,  and  I  replied. 
Three  or  four  letters  had  been  written  by  each,  when 
my  father  chanced  to  light  upon  my  papers  and  read 
them.  Without  entering  into  the  merits  of  the  cause, 
he  embraced  the  opportunity  of  speaking  to  me  upon 
my  manner  of  writing.  He  observed,  that  though  I 
had  the  advantage  of  rny  adversary  in  correct  spell 
ing  and  pointing,  which  I  owed  to  my  occupation,  1 
was  greatly  his  inferior  in  elegance  of  expression,  in 
arrangement,  and  perspicuity.  Of  this  he  convinced 
me  by  several  examples.  I  felt  the  justice  of  his  re 
marks,  became  more  attentive  to  language,  and  re- 
sclvcd  to  make  every  effort  to  improve  my  style. 

Amidst  these  resolves  an  odd  volume  of  the  Spec 
tator  fell  into  my  hands.  This  was  a  publication  I 
had  never  seen.  1  bought  the  volume,  and  read  it 
again  and  again.  I  was  enchanted  with  it,  thought 
the  style  excellent,  and  wished  it  were  hi  my  powoi 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  23 

to  imitate  it.  With  this  view  I  selected  some  of  the 
papers,  made  short  summaries  of  the  sense  of  each 
period,  and  put  them  for  a  few  days  aside.  I  then, 
without  looking  at  the  book,  endeavoured  to  restore 
the  essays  to  their  due  form,  and  to  express  each 
thought  at  length,  as  it  was  in  the  original,  employ 
ing  the  most  appropriate  words  thai  occurred  to  my 
mind.  I  afterwards  compared  my  Spectator  with  the 
original ;  1  perceived  some  faults,  which  J  corrected 
but  I  found  that  I  wanted  a  fund  of  words,  if  I  may 
so  express  myself,  and  a  facility  of  recollecting  and 
employing  them,  which  I  thought  I  should  by  that 
time  have  acquired,  had  I  continued  to  make  verses. 
The  continual  need  of  words  of  the  same  meaning, 
but  of  different  lengths  for  the  measure,  or  of  different 
sounds  for  the  rhyme,  would  have  obliged  me  to  seek 
for  a  variety  of  synonymes,  and  have  rendered  me 
master  of  them.  From  this  belief,  I  took  seme  of  the 
tales  of  the  Spectator  and  turned  them  into  verse ; 
and,  after  a  time,  when  I  had  sufficiently  forgotten 
them,  I  again  converted  them  into  prose. 

Sometimes  also  I  mingled  all  my  summaries  toge 
ther  ;  and,  a  few  weeks  after,  endeavoured  to  arrange 
th?m  in  the  best  order,  before  I  attempted  to  form  the 
periods  and  complete  the  essays.  This  I  did  with  a 
view  of  acquiring  method  in  the  arrangement  of  my 
thoughts.  On  comparing,  afterwards,  my  perform 
ance  with  the  original,  many  faults  were  apparent, 
which  I  corrected;  but  I  had  sometimes  the  satisfac 
tion  to  think,  that,  in  certain  particulars  of  little  im 
portance,  1  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  improve 
the  order  of  thought  or  the  style ;  and  this  encouraged 
3ne  to  hope  that  I  should  succeed,  in  time,  in  writing4 
decently  in  the  English  language,  which  was  one  of 
the  great  objects  of  my  ambition. 

The  time  which  I  devoted  to  these  exercises,  and 
to  reading,  was  the  evening  after  my  day's  labour  was 
finished,  the  morning  before  it  began,  and  Sundays 
when  I  could  escape  attending  Divine  service.  While 
I  lived  with  my  rather,  he  had  insisted  on  my  punc 
tual  attendance  on  public  worship,  and  I  still  indeed 
considered  it  as  a  duty,  but  a  duty  which  I  thought  I 
bad  no  time  to  practise. 


24  LIFE  OF 

When  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  a  work  of  Tiyon 
fell  into  my  hands,  in  which  he  recommends  vegeta- 
pie  diet.  I  determined  to  observe  it.  My  brother  be 
ing  a  bachelor,  did  not  keep  house,  but  boarded  with 
his  apprentices  in  a  neighbouring  family.  My  refusing 
to  eat  animal  food  was  found  inconvenient,  and  I  was 
often  scolded  for  my  singularity.  I  attended  to  the 
mode  in  which  Tryon  prepared  some  of  his  dishes 
particularly  how  to  boil  potatoes  and  rice,  and  makfl 
fiasty  puddings.  I  then  said  to  my  brother,  that  if 
he  would  allow  me  per  week  half  what  he  paid  fo 
my  board,  I  would  undertake  to  maintain  myuelC 
The  offer  was  instantly  embraced,  and  I  soon  found 
that  of  what  he  gave  me  I  was  able  to  save  half. 
This  was  a  new  fund  for  the  purchase  of  books; 
and  other  advantages  resulted  to  me  from  the  plan. 
When  my  brother  and  his  workmen  left  the  printing- 
house  to  go  to  dinner,  I  remained  behind,  and  des 
patching  my  frugal  meal,  which  frequently  consisted 
of  a  biscuit  only,  or  a  slice  of  bread  and  a  bunch  of 
raisins,  or  a  bun  from  the  pastry-cook's,  with  a  glasi 
of  water,  I  had  the  rest  of  the  time,  till  tireir  return, 
for  study;  and  my  progress  therein  was  proportioned 
to  that  clearness  of  ideas,  and  quickness  of  concep 
tion,  which  are  the  fruit  of  temperance  in  eating  and 
drinking. 

It  was  about  this  period  that,  having  one  day  been 
put  to  the  blush  for  my  ignorance  in  the  art  of  calcu 
lation,  which  I  had  twice  failed  to  learn  while  at 
school,  I  took  Cocker's  Treatise  of  Arithmetic,  and 
went  through  it  myself  with  the  utmost  ease.  I  also 
read  a  book  of  Navigation  by  Seller  and  Sturmy,  and 
made  myself  master  of  the  little  geometry  it  contains* 
but  I  never  proceeded  far  in  this  science.  Nearly  at 
the  same  time,  I  read  Locke  on  the  Human  Under 
standing,  and  the  Art  of  Thinking,  by  Messrs.  Dw 
Port  Royal. 

While  labouring  to  form  and  improve  my  style,  I 
met  with  an  English  Grammar,  which  I  believe  was 
Greenwood's,  having  at  the  end  of  it  two  little  essays 
on  rhetoric  and  logic.  In  the  lattter  I  found  a  model 
of  disputation  after  the  manner  of  Socrates.  Shortly 
after  I  procured  Xencphon's  work,  entitled,  Memora* 


DR.  FKAN&L1N.'  25 

We  Things  of  Socrates,  in  which  are  various  exam 
ples  of  the.  same  method.  Charmed  to  a  degree  of 
enthusiasm  with  this  mode  of  disputing,  I  adopted  it, 
and  renouncing  blunt  contradiction,  and  direct  and 
positive  argument,  I  assumed  the  character  of  a  hum 
ble  Questioner.  The  perusal  of  Shaftsbury  and  Col 
lins  nad  made  me  a  sceptic  ;  and,  being  previously  so 
as  to  many  doctrines  of  Christianity,  1  found  Socra- 

es'  method  to  be  both  the  safest  for  myself,  as  well 
as  the  most  embarrassing  to  those  against  whom  I 
employed  it.  It  soon  afforded  me  singular  pleasure; 
J  incessantly  practised  it ;  and  became  very  adroit  in 
obtaining,  even  from  persons  of  superior  understand 
ing,  concessions  of  which  they  did  not  foresee  the 
consequence.  Thus  I  involved  them  in  difficulties 
from  which  they  were  unable  to  extricate  themselves, 
and  sometimes  obtained  victories,  which  neither  my 
cause  nor  my  arguments  merited. 

This  method  I  continued  to  employ  for  some  years ; 
but  I  afterwards  abandoned  it  by  degrees,  retaining 
only  the  habit  of  expressing  myself  with  modest  dif 
fidence,  and  never  making  use,  when  I  advanced  any 
proposition  which  might  be  controverted,  of  the  words 
certainly,  undoubtedly,  or  any  others  which  might 
give  the  appearance  of  being  obstinately  attached  to 
my  opinion.  I  'rather  said,  I  imagine,  1  suppose,  or  it 
appears  to  me,  that  such  a  thing  is  so  or  so,  for  such 
and  such  reasons;  or  it  is  so,  if  I  am  not  mistaken. 
This  habit  has,  1  think,  been  of  considerable  advan 
tage  to  me,  when  I  have  had  occasion  to  impress  my 
opinion  on  the  minds  of  others,  and  persuade  them  to 
the  adoption  of  the  measures  I  have  suggested.  And 
since  the  chief  ends  of  conversation  are,  to  inform  or 

o  be  informed,  to  please  or  to  persuade,  I  could  wigfc 

hat  intelligent  and  well-meaning  men  would  no 
themselves  diminish  the  power  they  possess  of  being 
useful,  by  a  positive  and  presumptuous  manner  of  ex 
pressing  themselves,  which  scarcely  ever  fails  to  dis 
gust  the  hearer,  and  is  only  calculated  to  excite  op 
position,  and  defeat  every  purpose  for  which  the  fa 
culty  of  speech  has  been  bestowed, on  man.  In  short, 
if  you  wish  to  inform,  a  positive  and  dogmatical 

manneu  of  advancing  your  opinion  may  provoke  con* 


26  LIFE  OP    >•_ 

tradictlon,  and  prevent  your  being  heard  with  atten 
tion  On  the  other  hand,  if,  with  a  desire  of  being 
informed,  and^of  benefiting  by  the  knowledge  of 
others,  you  express  yourself  as  being  strongly  attached 
to  your  O',vn  opinions,  modest  and  sensible  men,  who 
do  not  love  disputation,  will  leave  you  in  tranquil 
possession  of  your  errors.  By  following  such  a  me 
thod,  you  can  rarely  hope  to  please  your  auditors 
conciliate  their  good- will,  or  work  conviction  on  those 
whom  you  may  be  desirous  of  gaining  over  to  you 
views.  Pope  judiciously  observes, 

Men  must  be  taught  as  if  you  taught  them  not, 
And  things  unknown  proposed  as  things  forgot 

And  in  the  same  poem  he  afterwards  advises  us, 
To  speak,  though  sure,  with  ieeming  diffidence. 

He  might  have  added  to  these  lines,  one  that  he  has 
coupled  elsewhere,  hi  my  opinion,  with  less  propn*  ty. 
It  is  thus: 

For  want  of  modesty  is  want  of  tense. 

If  you  ask  why  I  say  with  less  propriety,  I  must  give 
you  the  two  lines  together : 

Immodest  words  admit  of  no  defence. 
For  want  of  decency  is  want  of  sense. 

Now,  want  of  sense,  when  a  man  has  the  misfortune 
to  be  so  circumstanced,  is  it  not  a  kind  of  excuse  for 
want  of  modesty  ?  And  would  not  the  verses  have 
6een  more  accurate,  if  they  had  been  constructed 
thus; 

Immodest  words  admit  but  thi»  defence^ 
The  want  of  decency  is  want  of  sense. 

But  I  leave  the  decision  of  this  to  better  judges  than 
myselC 

In  1720,  or  1721,  my  brother  began  to  print  a  new 
public  paper.    It  was  the  second  that  made  its  ap* 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  27 

pearance  in  America,  and  was  entitled  the  "New 
England  Courunt."  T lie  only  one  that  existed  before 
was  the  "  Boston  News  Letter."  Some  of  his  friends, 
1  remember,  would  have  dissuaded  him  from  this  un 
dertaking,  as  a  thing  that  was  not  likely  to  succeed  ; 
a  single  newspaper  being,  in  their  opinion,  sufficient 
for  ull  America. '  At  present,  however,  in  1771,  t'  ere 
are  no  less  than  twenty-five.  But  he  carried  his  y,ry- 
ject  into  execution,  and  I  was  employed  in  distri 
buting  the  copies  to  his  customers,  after  having  assisted 
m  composing  and  working  them  off. 

Among  his  friends  he  had  a  number  of  literary 
characters,  who,  as  an  amusement,  wrote  short  essays 
for  the  paper,  which  gave  it  reputation,  and  increased 
the  sale.  These  gentlemen  frequently  came  to  our 
house.  1  heard  tlie  conversation  that  passed,  and  tiio 
accounts  they  gave  of  the  favourable  reception  of  their 
writings  with  the  public.  I  was  templed  to  try  my 
hand  among  them  ;  but,  being  still  a  child  as  it  were, 
I  was  fearful  that  my  brother  might  be  unwilling  to 

Ct  in  his  paper  any  performance  of  which  he  should 
w  me  to  be  the  author.  I  therefore  contrived  to 
disguise  my  hand,  and  having  written  an  anonymous 
piece,  I  placed  it  at  night  under  the  door  of  the  print- 
ing-house,  where  it  was  found  the  next  morning.  My 
brother  communicated  it  to  his  friends,  when  they 
came  as  usual  to  see  him,  who  read  it,  commented 
upon  it  within  my  hearing,  and  I  had  the  exquisilo 
pleasure  to  find  that  it  met  with  their  approbation, 
and  that  in  their  various  conjectures  they  made  re 
specting  the  author,  no  one  was  mentioned  who  dirt 
not  enjoy  a  high  reputation  ir.  the  country  for  talents 
and  genius.  I  now  supposed  myself  fortunate  in  my 
judges,  and  began  to  suspect  that  they  were  not  suofi 
excellent  writers  as  I  had  hitherto  supposed  them, 
Be  this  as  it  may,  encouraged  by  this  little  adventure, 
i  wrote  and  sent  to  press,  in  the  same  way,  many 
other  pieces,  which  were  equally  approved  •  keeping 
the  secret  till  my  slender  stock  of  information  and 
Knowledge  for  such  performances  was  prefvy  com 
pletely  exhausted,  when  I  made  myself  known.  I 
My  brother,  upon  this  discovery,  began  to  entertain 
a  little  more  respect  for  me  5  but  he  stiJi  regarded  liim- 
2 


28  LIFE  OF 

self  as  my  master,  and  treated  me  as  an  apprentice. 
He  thought  himself  entitled  to  the  same  services  from 
me  as  from  any  other  person.  On  the  contrary,  I  con 
ceived  that,  in  many  instances,  he  was  too  rigorous, 
and  that,  on  the  part  of  a  brother,  I  had  a  right  to 
expect  greater  indulgence.  Our  disputes  were  fre 
quently  brought  before  my  father;  and  either  my 
brother  was  generally  in  the  wrong,  or  I  was  the  better 
pleader  of  the  two,  for  judgment  was  commonly  given 
in  my  favour.  But  my  brother  was  passionate,  and 
often  had  recourse  to  blows,  a  circumstance  which  I 
took  in  very  ill  part.  This  severe  and  tyrannical 
treatment  contributed,  I  believe,  to  imprint  on  my 
mind  that  aversion  to  arbitrary  power,  which,  during 
my  whole  life,  I  have  ever  preserved.  My  apprentice 
ship  became  insupportable  to  me,  and  I  continually 
sighed  for  an  opportunity  of  shortening  jt,  which  at 
'ength  unexpectedly  offered. 

An  article  inserted  in  our  paper,  upon  some  politi 
cal  subject  which  I  have  now  forgotten,  save  offence 
*>  the  Assembly.  My  brother  was  taken  into  custody, 
censured,  and  ordered  into  confinement  for  a  month, 
because,  I  presume,  he  would  not  discover  the  author. 
I  was  also  taken  up,  and  examined  before  the  coun 
cil;  but,  though  I  gave  them  no  satisfaetioi  ,  they 
contented  themselves  with  reprimanding,  an  J  then 
dismissing  me;  considering  me  probably  a-<  boi:nd,  in 
quality  of  apprentice,  to  keep  my  master's  stx  -its. 

The  imprisonment  of  my  brother  kindled  my  re- 
fentmcut,  notwithstanding  rur  private  quarrels.  Dur- 
:  ing  its  continuance,  the  management  of  th*  paper 
was  entrusted  to  me,  a'ld  I  was  bold  enough  10  msert 
some  pasquinades  against  the  governors,  whi'-h  high- 
fy  pleased  my  brother,  while  others  began  to  look 
Upon  me  in  an  unfavourable  point  of  view,  consi 
dering  me  as  a  young  wit,  inclined  to  satire  and  lam 
poon 

My  brother's  enlargement  was  accompanied'  v'th 
an  arbitary  order  from  the  House  of  Assembly,  "Thai 
James  franklin  should  no  logger  print"'! he  newspapei 
entitled  tne  *INevv  England  CffUfant**1  In  tins  con 
juncture,  we  held  a  consultation  of  our  friends  at  tiie 
juiuling-nouse,  m  order  tn  determine  what  was  to  be 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  29 

.  Sbme "proposed  to  evade  the  order,  t£ 
ing  the  title  of  the  paper :  but  my  brotlier  fcrseeing  i 
conveniences  that  would  result  from  this  step,  thought 
it  better  that  it  should  in  future  be  printed  in  the 
name  of  Benjamin  Franklin;  and,  to  avoid  the  cen 
sure  of  the  Assembly,  who  might  charge  him  with 
still  printing  the  paper  himself,  under  the  name  of  his 
apprentice,  it  was  resolved  that  my  old  indenture 
should  be  given  up  to  me,  with  a  fuH  and  entire  dis 
charge  written  on  the  back,  in  order  to  be  produce 
upon  an  emergency :  but  that,  to  secure  to  my  brothe 
the  benefit  of  my  service,  I  should  sign  a  new  contrary 
which  should  be  kept  secret  during  the  remainder  of 
the  term.  This  was  a  very  shallow  arrangement.  It 
was,  however,  carried  into  immediate  execution,  and 
the  paper  continued,  in  consequence,  1/3  make  its  ap 
pearance  for  some  months  in  my  name.  At  length  a 
new  difference  arising  between  my  brother  and  me, 
I  ventured  to  take  advantage  of  my  ifberty,  presum 
ing  that  lie  would  not  dare  to-jjrod  Tt  the  new  con 
tract.  It  was  undoubtedly  d;sho>  ••  >ahle  to  avail 
myself  of  this  circumstance,  and  1  reckon  this  action 
as  one  of  the  first  eiiors  of  my  life,  out  I  was  little 
capable  of  estimating  it  at  its  true  value,  embittered 
as  my  mind  had  be^n  by  the  recollection  of  the  blows 
I  had  received.  Exclusive  of  his  passionate  treatment 
to  me,  my  brother  was  by  no  means  a  men  of  an  ill 
temper,  and  perhaps  my  manners  had  too  much  im- 
pertinence  no:  to  afford  it  a  very  natural  pretext. 

When  he  knew  that  it  was  my  determination  to  qu't 
him,  he  wished  to  prevent  my  finding  employment 
elsewhere.  He  went  to  all  the  'printing-  houses  "in  the 
town,  and  prejudiced  the  masters  against  me ;  who 
accordingly  refused  to  employ  me.  The  idea  thai 
uggested  itself  to  me  of  going  to  New* York,  the  near 
esl  town  in  which  there  was  a  printing  offire.  Farther 
reflection  oonfinnei1  me  in  the  design  of  leaving  Bos 
ton,  where  I  Jiad  already  rendered  myself"  an  object  of 
suspicion  to  the  governing  party.  It  was  probable, 
from  the  ar')itary  proceedings  of"  the  Asse-nbly  in  the 
affair  of  my  brother,  iliat,  by  renniining,  I  should  soon 
have  been  exposed  to  difficulties,  which  1  had  thA 
greater  reason  to  apprehend,  as,  from  my  indiscreet 


30  LIFE  Or 

disputes  upon  the  subject  of  religion,  I  began  to  bd 
regarded  by  pious  souls,  with  horror,  either  as  an 
apostate  or  an  atheist.  I  came  therefore  to  a  resolu 
tion:  but  my  fatiier,  siding  with  ray  brother,  I  pre 
sumed  that  if  I  attempted  to  depart  openly,  measures 
would  be  taken  to  prevent  me.  My  friend  Collins 
undertook  to  favour  my  flight.  He  agreed  for  my  pas 
eage  with  a  captain  of  a  New-York  sloop,  to  whom 
he  represented  me  as  a  young  man  of  his  acquaint 
ance,  who  had  an  affair  with  a  girl  of  bad  character, 
whose  parents  wished  to  compel  me  to  marry  her,  and 
of  consequence  I  could  neither  make  my  appearance, 
nor  go  olr'  publicly.  I  told  part  of  my  books  to  pro 
cure  a  small  sum  of  money,  and  went  privately  on 
board  the  sloop.  By  favour  of  a  good  wind,  I  found 
myself  in  thiee  days'  at  New-York,  nearly  three  hun 
dred  miles  from  my  home,  at  the  age  only  of  seven 
teen  years,  without  knowing  an  individual  in  tho 
place,  and  witlTvery  little  money  in  my  pocket. 

The  inclination  1  had  felt  for  a  sea-faring  life  wat 
entirely  subsided,  or  1  should  now  have  been  able  to 
gratify  it;  but,  having  another  trade,  and  believing  my- 
gflf  to  be  a  tolerable  workman,  I  hesitated  not  to  offer 
m>  services  to  the  old  Mr.  William  Bradford,  who  had 
been  the  first  printer  in  Pennsylvania,  but  had  quitted 
the  province  on  account  of  a  quarrel  with  George 
Keith,  the  governor.  He  could  not  give  me  employ 
ment  himself,  having  little  to  do,  and  already  as  many 
persons  as  he  wanted  ;  but  he  told  me  that  his  son, 
printer  at  Philadelphia,  had  lately  lost  his  principal 
workman,  Aquila  Kose,  who  was  dead,  and  that  if  I 
would  go  thither,  he  believed  that  he  would  engage 
me.  Philadelphia  was  a  hundred  miles  farther.  I  l.e- 
d  not  to  embark  in  a  boat  in  order  to  repair,  to) 


the  shortest  cut  of  the  sea,  to  Am  boy,  leaving  my  trunk 
and  effects  to  come  after  me  by  the  usual  and  mcrt 
tedious  conveyance.  In  crossing  the  bay  we  met  wiii 
a  squall,  which  shattered  to  pieces  our  rotten  sails, 
prevented  us  from  entering  the  Kill,  and  threw  us  up 
bn  Long  Island. 

During  the  squall,  a  drunken  Dutchman,  who,  KL* 
myself,  was  a  passenger  in  the  boat,  fell  into  the  sea 
At  the  moment  that  he  was  sinking,  I  seized  him  Lf 


DR.  FRANRLLN.  31 

the  fore-top,  saved  him,  and  drew  him  on  board.  This 
immersion  sobered  him  a  little,  so  that  he  fell  asleep 
after  having  taken  from  his  pocket  a  volume  which  lie 
requested  me  to  dry.  This  volume  I  found  to  lie  my 
old  favourite  work,  Bunyan's  Pilgrim,  in  Dutch,  a 
beautiful  impression  on  fine  paper,  with  copper-plate 
engravings ;  a  dress  in  which  I  had  never  seen  it  in  its 
original  language.  I  have  since  learned  that  it  has 
been  translated  into  almost  all  the  languages  of  Eu 
rope,  and,  next  to  the  Bible,  1  am  persuaded  it  is  ona 
of  the  books  thai  has  had  the  greatest  spread  Honest 
John  is  the  first,  that  1  know  of,  v/ho  has  mixed  nar 
rative  and  dialogue  together;  a  mode  of  writing  very 
engaging  to  the  reader,  who  in  the  most  interesting 
passages  finds  himself  admitted,  as  it  were,  into  the 
company,  and  present  at  the  conversation.  De  Foe 
has  imitated  it  with  success  in  his  Robinson  Crusoe, 
his  Moll  Flanders,  and  other  works;  as  also  Richard 
son  in  liis  Pamela,  &.c. 

In  approaching  the  island,  we  found  that  we  had 
made  a  part  of  the  coast  where  it  was  not  possible  to 
land,  on  account  of  the  strong  breakers  produced  by 
the  rocky  shore.  We  cast  anchor  and  veered  the  ca 
ble  towards  the  shore.  Some  men  who  stood  upon  the 
brink,  halloed  to  us,  while  we  did  the  same  on  our 
part;  but  the  wind  was  so  high,  and  the  waves  so  noisy, 
that  we  could  neither  of  us  hear  each  oiJiei-.  There 
were  some  canoes  upon  the  bank,  and  we  called  out 
to  them,  and  made  signs  to  prevail  on  them  to  corne 
and  take  us  uj, ;  but  either  they  did  not  understand  us, 
or  they  deemed  our  request  impracticable,  and  with 
drew.  Night  came  on,  and  nothing  remained  for  us 
but  to  wait  quietly  the  subsiding  of  the  wind;  till 
when,  we  determined,  that  is,  the  pilot  and  1,  to  sleep 
if  possible.  For  that  puqiose  we  went  below  the 
hatches  along  with  \h<*  Dutchman,  who  was  drenched 
with  water.  The  sea  broke  over  the  boat,  and  reach 
ed  us  in  our  retreat,  so  that  we  were  presently  as  com 
pletely  drenched  as  he. 

We  had  very  little  repose  during  the  whole  night; 
but  the  wind  abating  the  jiext  day,  we  succeeded  in 
reaching  Aml>oy  before  it  was  dark,  af'er  having  pass- 
td  thirty  hours  without  provisions,  and  with  no  othci 


ft  LIFE  OF 

drink  than  a  bottle  of  bad  rum,  the  watei  upon  which 
we  rowed  being  salt.  In  the  evening  I  went  to  bed 
with  a  very  violent  fever.  I  nad  somewhere  read  that 
cold  water,  drank  plentifully,  was  a  remedy  in  such 
cases.  I  followed  the  prescription,  was  in  a  profuse 
sweat  for  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  and  the  fevei 
left  me.  The  next  day  I  crossed  the  river  in  a  ferry 
boat,  and  continued  my  journey  on  foot.  I  had  fifty 
miles  to  walk,  in  order  to  reach  Burlington,  where  I 
was  told  1  should  find  passage-boats  that  would  con 
vey  me  to  Philaxlelphia.  It  rained  hard  the  whole 
day,  so  that  I  was  wet  to  the  skin.  Finding  myself 
fatigued  about  noon,  I  stopped  at  a  piltry  inn,  where 
I  passed  the  rest  of  the  day  and  the  whole  night,  be 
ginning  to  regret  that  I  had  quitted  my  home.  I  made 
besides  so  wretched  a  figure,  that  I  was  suspected  to 
be  some  runaway  servant.  This  1  discovered  by  the 
questions  that  were  acked  me :  and  1  felt  that  1  was 
every  moment  in  danger  of  being  taken  up  as  such. 
The  next  day,  however,  I  continued  my  journey,  and 
arrived  in  the  evening  at  an  inn,  eight  or  ten  miles 
from  Burlington,  that  was  kept  by  one  Dr.  Brown. 

This  man  entered  into  conversation  with  me  while 
I  took  some  refreshment,  and  perceiving  that  I  had 
read  a  Iit.de,  he  expressed  towards  me  considerable 
interest,  and  friendship,  pur  acquaintance  continued 
during  tne  remainder  of  his  life.  I  believe  him  to  have 
been  what  Ls  called  an  itinerant  doctor;  foi  there  was 
no  town  in  England,  or  indeed  in  Europe,  of  which  he 
could  not  give  a  particular  account.  He  was  neither 
deficient  in  understanding  or  literature,  but  he  was  a 
sad  infidel;  and,  some  yearr  after,  wickedly  under 
took  to  travesty  the  Bible,  in  burlesque  verse,  as  Cot 
ton  travestied  "Virgil.  He  exhibited,  by  this  means, 
many  facts  in  a  very  ludicrous  point  of  view,  which 
would  have  given  umbrage  to  weak  minds,  had  his 
Work  been  published,  wh'ch  it  never  was. 

I  spent  the  night  at  his  house,  and  reached  Burling 
ton  tno  next  morning.  On  my  arrival,  I  had  the  mor 
tification  to  learn  that  the  ordinary  passage-boats  had 
saUed  a  little  before.  This  was  on  a  Saturday,  and 
there  would  be  no  other  boat  till  the  Tuesday  follow 
ing,  f  I  returned  to  tlie  house  of  an  old  woman  in  the 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  S3 

town,  who  had  sold  me  some  gingerbread  to  eat  on  my 
passage,  and  I  asked  her  advice.  She  invited  mo  to 
take  up  my  abode  with  her  till  an  opportunity  offered 
for  me  to  embark.  Fatigued  with  having  travelled  so 
far  on  foot,  I  accepted  her  invitation.  When  she  un 
derstood  tiiat  I  was  a  printer,  she  would  havs  per 
suaded  me  to  stay  at  Burlington,  and  set  up  my  trade  j 
but  she  was  little  aware  of  the  capital  that  would  bo 
necessary  for  such  a  purpose !  I  was  treated  while  at 
hor  hoase  with  true  hospitality.  She  gave  m*,  with  • 
the  utmost  good- will,  a  dinner  of  beef-? tcaks,,and  would* 
accept  of  nothing  in  return  but  a  pint  of  ale. 

Here  1  imagined  myself  to  be  fixed  til!  the  Tuesday 
in  the  ensuing  week  ;  but,  walking  out  in  the  evening 
by  the  river  side,  I  saw  a  boat  with  a  number  of  per 
sons  in  it  approach.  It  was  going  to  Philadelphia, 
ana  the  company  took  me  in.  As  there  was  no  wind, 
we  could  omymake  way  with  our  oars.  About  mid 
night,  not  perceiving  the  town,  some  of  the  company 
were  of  opinion  that  we  must  have  passed  it,  and 
wej?e  unwilling  to  row  any  farther;  the  rest  not  know 
ing  wnere  we  were,  it  was  resolved  that  we  should 
stop.  We  drew  towards  the  shore,  entered  a  creek, 
ari'l  landed  near  some  old  palisades,  which  served  us 
for  firewood,  it  being  a  cold  night  in  October.  Hero 
we  staid  till  day,  when  one  of  the  company  found  the 
place  in  which  we  were  to  be  Cooper's  Creek,  a  little 
above  Philadelphia;  which,  in  reality  we  perceived 
the  moment  we  were  out  of  the  creek.  We  arrived  on 
Sunday  about  eight  or  nine  o'clock  5n  the  morning, 
and  landed  on  Market- street  wharf. 

1  have  entered  into  the  particulars  of  my  voyage, 
and  shall,  in  like  manner,  describe  my  first  entrance 
into  this  city,  that  you  may  compare  beginnings  so  lit 
tle  auspicious,  with  the  figure  L  have  since  made. 

On  my  arrival  at  Philadelphia  I  was  in  my  working 
diess,  my  best  clothes  being  to  come  by  sea.  I  was 
covered  with  dirt;  my  pockets  were  filled  with  shirts 
and  stockings';  I  was  unacquainted  with  a  single  souj 
in  the  place,  and  knew  not  where  to  look  for  a  lodg. 
ing.  Fatigued  with  walking,  rowing,  and  having  pass 
ed  the  nignt  without  sleep,  I  was  extremely  hungry, 
and  all  my  money  consisted  cf  a  Dutch  dollar,  JUKI 


W  LIFE  OP- 

about  a  shilling's  worth  of  coppers,  which  I  gave  to 
the  boatinep  for  ir.y  passage.  As  I  had  assisted  them 
in  rowing,  they  refused  it  at  first ;  but  I  insisted  on 
their  taking  it.  A  man  is  sometimes  more  generous 
when  he  has  little,  than  when  he  has  much  money; 
probably  because,  in  the  first  case,  he  is  desirous  of 
concealing  his  poverty. 

I  walked  towards  the  top  of  the  street,  looking  ea- 
cprly  on  both  sides,  till  J  came  to  Market-street,  where 
imet  with  a  child  with  a  loaf  of  bread.  Often  had 
J  made  my  d»nner  on  dry  bread.  1  inquired  where 
he  had  bought  it,  ami  went  straight  to  the  baker's 
shop  which  he  pointed  out  to  me.  I  asked  for  some 
biscuits,  expecting  lo  find  such  as  we  had  at  Boston; 
but  they  made,  it  seems,  none  of  that  sort  at  IJhila- 
dclphra.  i  then  asked  for  a  three-penny  loaf.  They 
made  no  loaves  of  that  price.  Finding  myself  igno 
rant  of  the  prices,  as  well  as  of  the  different  kind:,  of 
bread,  1  desired  him  to  let  me  have  three-penny 
worth  of  bread  of  some  kind  or  other.  He  gave  me 
three  lar^e  roils.  I  was  surprised  at  receiving  so 
much-  I  took  them,  however,  and  having  no  room  in 
my  pockets,  1  walked  on  with  a  roll  under  each  arm, 
eating  the  third.  In  this  manner  I  went  through  Mar- 
set-street  to  Fourth-street,  and  passed  the  house  of 
Mr.  Head,  the  lather  of  my  future  wife.  She  was 
standing  at  the  door,  observed  me,  and  thought  with 
reason.,  that  1  made  a  very  singular  and  grotesque  ap 
pearance. 

I  then  turned  the  cnn.er,  and  went  through  Chest- 
uut-street,  eating  my  roll  all  the  way ;  and  having 
made  this  round,  I  found  myself  again  on  Market- 
street  war!',  near  the  txiat  in  which  I  arrived.  1  step 
ped  hito  it  to  fake  a  drai.'^ht  of  the  river  water;  and, 
finding  myself  satisfied  with  the  iir.st  roll,  1  gave  the 
ether  two  to  a  woman  and  her  child,  who  had  come 
down  thfi  river  with  us  in  the  boat,  and  was  waiting 
to  continue  her  journey.  Tims  refreshed,  I  regained 
the  street,  which  was  now  full  of  well  dressed  neople, 
all  going  the  same  way.  J  joined  them,  and  was 
thus  led  to  a  large  Quaker  meeting-house  near  the 
market-place.  I  sat  down  with  tiie  rest,  and,  after 
looking  round  me  for  some  time,  hearing  nothing  said* 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  33 

and  being  drowsy  from  my  last  night's  labour  and 
want  of  rest,  [  fell  into  a  sound  sleep.  In  this  state 
I  continued  till  the  assembly  dispersed,  when  one  of 
Ihe  congregation  had  the  goodness  to  wake  me.  This 
ivas  consequently  the  first  house  I  entered,  or  in  which 
I  *lept  in  Philadelphia. 

I  began  again  to  walk  aion^  the  street  by  the  river- 
*  de;  and,  looking  attentively  in  the  face  of  every  ono 
\  met  with,  I  at  length  perceived  a  young  quaker 
whose  countenance  pleased  me.  I  accosted  him,  a\id 
bugged  him  to  inform  me  where  a  stranger  migni  find 
a  lodging.  We  were  then  near  the  sign  of  the  Three 
Mariners.  They  receive  travellers  here,  said  he,  but 
it  is  not  a  house  that  bears  a  good  character;  if  you 
will  go  with  me,  1  will  show  you  a  Better  one.  Hft 
conducted  me  to  the  Crooked  Billet,  ;n  "Water- street. 
There  I  ordered  something  for  dinner,  and,  during  my 
rr*eal,  a  number  of  curious  questions  were  put  to  me; 
my  youth  and  appearance  exciting  the  suspicion  of 
my  being  a  runaway.  After  dinner  my  drowsiness 
returned,  and  1  threw  myself  upon  a  bed  without  tak 
ing  orf  my  clothes,  and  slept  till  six  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  when  I  was  called  to  supper.  I  afterwards 
went  tu  Led  at  a  very  early  hour,  and  did  not  awake 
till  the  next  morning. 

As  soon  as  I  got  up  I  put  myself  in  as  decent  a  trim 
as  I  could,  and  went  to  the  house  of  Andrew  Brad 
ford,  the  printer.  I  found  his  father  iu  the  shop,  whom 
[  had  seen  at  New- York.  Having  travelled  on  horse 
back,  he  had  arrived  at  Philadelphia  before  me.  He 
introduced  me  to  his  son,  who  received  me  with  civili 
ty,  and  gave  me  some  breakfast ;  but  told  me  he  had 
no  occasion  at  present  for  a  journeyman,  having  late- 
kf  procured  one.  He  added,  that  there  was  another 
fruiter  ntnvly  settled  in  the  town,  of  the  name  of  Kei 
mer,  who  might  perhaps  employ  me ;  and  that  in  cas* 
of  refusal,  I  should  be  welcome  to  lodge  at  his  house, 
and  he  wouid  give  me  a  little  work  now  and  then,  till 
something  better  should  ofier. 

The  old  man  offered  to  introduce  me  to  me  new 
printer.     When  we  were  at  his  house,  »*  Neighnour,11 
•aid  he,  **  J  bring  you  a  young  man  in  the  printing  hit- 
giness ;  rxni.Aps  you  may  have  need  ol'his  services." 
2  * 


3fc  LIFE  OF 

Keimer  asked  me  some  questions,  put  a  composing- 
stick  in  my  hand,  to  see  how  1  could  work,  and  then 
said,  that  at  present  he  had  nothing  foi  me  to  do,  but 
that  he  should  soon  be  aule  to  employ  me.  At  the 
same  time,  taking  old  Bradford  for  an  inhabitant  of 
the  town  well-disposed  lowaids  him,  he  communica 
ted  his  project  to  him,  and  the  prospect  he  had  of 
success.  Bradford  was  careful  not  to  discover  that  he 
was  father  of  the  other  printer;  and  from  what  Kei- 
m3r  had  said,  that  he  hoped  shortly  to  be  in  posses 
sion  oi  the  greater  part  of  the  business  of  the  town, 
led  him,  by  artful  questions,  and  by  starting  some  dif 
ficulties,  to  disclose  all  his  views,  what  his  hopes  were 
founded  upon,  and  how  he  intended  to  proceed.  I 
was  present,  and  heard  it  all.  1  instantly  saw  thaf 
one  of  the  twc  was  a  cunning  old  fox,  and  the  other  a 
perfect  novice.  Bradford  left  me  with  Keimer,  whf 
was  strangely  surprised  when  1  informed  him  whi 
the  old  man  was. 

I  found  Keimer' s  printing  materials  to  consist  of  ar 
old  damaged  press,and  a  small  fountof  worn  outEnglisl 
letters,  with  which  he  himself  was  at  work  upon  an 
elegy  on  Aquila  Rose,  whom  I  have  mentioned  above, 
an  ingenious  young  man,  and  of  an  excellent  charao 
ter,  highly  esteemed  in  the  town,  secretary  to  the  as 
sembly,  and  a  very  tolerable  poet.  Keimer  also  made 
verses,  but  they  were  indifferent  ones.  He  could  not 
be  said  to  write  in  verse,  for  his  method  was  to  set  the 
lines  as  they  flowed  from  his  muse;  and  as  he  worked 
without  copy,  had  but  one  set  of  letter-cases,  and  the 
elegy  wouKl  probabiy  occupy  all  his  types,  it  was  impos 
sible  for  any  one  to  assist  him.  I  endeavoured  to  put 
his  press  in  order,  which  he  had  not  yet  used,  and  of 
which  indeed  he  understood  nothing :  and,  having  pro 
mised  to  come  and  work  off  his  elegy  as  soon  as  it 
should  be  ready,  1  returned  to  the  house  of  I>ra<1fordr 
who  gave  me  some  trifle  to  do  ibr  the  present,  for  which 
1  had  my  board  and  lodging. 

In  a  few  days  Keimer  sent  for  me  to  print  off  his 
elegy.  He  kad  now  procured  another  set  of  letter- 
cases,  and  had  a  pamphlet  to  re-print,  upon  which  lie 
•et  me  to  work. 

The  two  Philadelphia  printers  appeared  desUlute 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  37 

of  every  qualification  necessary  in  their  profession. 
Bradford  had  not  been  brought  up  to  it,  and  war  very 
illiterate.  Keimer,  though  he  understood  a  little  of 
the  business,  was  merely  a  compositor,  and  wholly  in 
capable  of  working  at  press.  Fie  had  been  one  of  tiia 
French  prophets,  and  Knew  how  to  imitate  their  su 
pernatural  agitations.  At  the  time  of  our  first  acquain 
tance  he  professed  no  particular  religion,  but  a  littla 
of  all  upon  occasion.  He  was  totally  ignorant  of  th* 
world,  and  a  great  knave  at  heart,  as  i  had  afterward* 
an  opportunity  of  experiencing. 

Keimer,  could  not  endure  that,  working  with  him,  I  -: 
should  lodge  at  Bradford's.     He  had  indeed  a  house, 
but  it  was  unfurnished;  so  that  lie  could  not  take  me  • 
in.     He  procured  me  a  lodging  at  Mr.  Reed's,  his 
landlord,  whom  I  have  already  mentioned.   My  trunk 
and  effects  being  now  arrived,  I  thought  of  making, 
in  the  eyes  of  Miss  Reed,  a  more  respectable  appear 
ance  than  when  chance  exhibited  me  io  her  view,  eat 
ing  my  roll,  and  wandering  in  the  stieets. 

From  this  period  I  began  to  contract  acquaintance 
with  such  young  people  as  were  fond  of  reading,  and 
spent  my  evenings  with  them  agreeably,  while  at  the 
same  time,  1  gained  money  by  my  industry,  and, 
thanks  to  my  frugality,  lived  contented.  1  thus  forgot 
Boston  as  much  as  possible,  and  wished  every  one  to 
,be  ignorant  of  the  place  of  my  residence,  except  my 
friend  Collins;  to  whom  I  wrote,  and  who  kept  my 
secret. 

An  incident  however  arrived,  which  sent  me  home 
much  sooner  than  I  had  proposed.  1  had  a  brother-in- 
law,  by  the  name  of  Rooert  Holmes,  master  of  a  trad 
ing  sloop  from  Boston  to  Delaware.  Being  at  New 
eastle,  forty  miles  below  Philadelphia,  he  heard  of 
me,  and  wrote  to  inform  me  of  the  chagrin  which  my 
sudden  departure  from  Boston  had  occasioned  my  pa 
rents,  and  of  the  affections  which  they  still  entertain 
ed  for  me,  assuring  me  that,  if  1  would  return,  every 
tiling  should  be  adjusted  to  my  satisfaction;  and  he 
was  very  pressing  in  his  entreaties ;  I  answered  his  let 
ter,  thanked  him  for  his  advice,  and  explained  tho 
reasons  which  had  induced  me  to  quit  Boston,  wilk 


&  LIFE  OF 

such  force  and  clearness,  that  he  was  convinced  I  had 
been  less  to  blame  than  he  had  imagined. 

Sir  William  Keith,  goveri.or  of  the  province,  was 
at  Newcastle  at  the  time.  Captain  Holmes,  being  by 
chance  in  his  company  when  he  received  my  letter, 
took  occasion  to  cpeak  of  me,  and  showed  it  him.  The 
Governor  read  it,  and  apj>eaied  surprised  when  he 
learned  my  age.  He  thought  me,  he  said,  a  young  man 
,  f  very  promising  talents,  and  that,  of  consequence, 
'  might  to  be  encouraged  ;  that  there  were  at  i'liiladel* 
l^iia  njne  but  very  ignorant  printers,  and  *hat  if  I  were 
to  set  up  for  myself,  he  had  no  doubt  of  my  success ; 
that,  ibr  his  own  part,  he  would  procure  me  all  the  pub 
lic  business,  and  would  render  me  every  other  service 
in  his  power.  My  brother-in-law  related  all  this  to  me 
afterwards  at  Boston ;  but  I  knew  nothing  cf  it  at  the 
timo  •,  when  one  day  Keimer  and  I,  being  at  work  toge 
ther  near  the  window,  we  saw  the  Governor  and  ano 
ther  gentleman,  Colonel  French,  of  Newcastle,  hand 
somely  dressed,  cross  the  street.,  and  make  directly  for 
our  house.  We  heard  them  at  the  door,  and  Keimer, 
believing  it  to  be  a  visit  to  himself,  went  immediately 
down;  but  the  Governor  inquired  for  me,  came  up 
stairs,  and,  with  a  condescension  and  politeness  to 
which  1  had  not  at  all  been  accustomed,  paid  me  many 
compliments,  desired  to  be  acquainted  with  me,  oblig 
ingly  reproached  me  for  not  having  made  myself  known 
to  him  on  my  arrival  in  the  town,  and  wished  me  to 
accomuanv  him  to  a  tavern,  where  lie  and  Col.  French 
were  going  to  taste  some  excellent  Madeira  wine. 

I  was,  1  confess,  somewhat  surprised,  and  Keimer 
appeared  thunderstruck.  I  went,  however,  with  the 
Governor  and  the  Colonel  to  a  tavern,  at  the  corner  of 
Third-street,  where,  while  we  were  drinking  the  Ma 
deira,  he  proposed  to  me  to  establish  a  printing-house 
He  set  forth  the  probabilities  of  success,  and  himself 
and  Colonel  Frerch  assured  me  that  I  should  have  ' 
their  protection-arid  influence  in  obtaining  the  printing 
of  the  public  papers  of  both  governments;  and  as  I 
appeared  to  doubt  whether  my  father  would  assist  me 
in  this  enterprise,  Sir  William  said  he  would  give  me 
a  letter  to  him,  in  which  he  would  represent  the  ad 
vantages  of  the  scheme,  in  a  light  which  he  had  uo 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  39 

doubt  would  determine  him.  It  was  thus  concluded 
that  I  should  return  to  Boston  by  the  first  vessel,  with 
„  the  letter  of  recommendation,  from  the  Governor  to 
my  father.  Meanwhile  the  project  was  to  be  kept  so. 
cret,  and  I  continued  to  work  for  Keimer  as  before. 

The  Governor  sent  eX'ery  now  and  theii  to  invite 
me  to  dine  with  him.  I  considered  this  as  aver}1  great 
honour;  and  was  the  more  sensible  of  it,  as  he  cdj- 
versed  with  me  in  the  most  affable,  familiar,  and 
friendly  manner  imaginable. 

Towards  the  end  of  April,  1724,  a  small  vessel  was 
ready  to  sail  for  Boston.  I  took  leave  of  Keimer,  up- 
>n  the  pretext  of  going  to  see  my  parents.  The  Go- 
rernor  gave  me  a  long  letter,  in  which  lie  said  many 
flattering  things  of  me  to  my  father;  and  strongly  re 
commended  tlie  project  of  iny  settling  at  Philadelphia, 
AS  a  thing  which  could  not  fail  to  make  my  fortune. 

Gohig  down  the  bay  we  struck  on  a  flat,  and  sprung 
a  leak.  The  weather  was  very  tempestuous,  and  we 
were  obliged  to  pump  without  intermission ;  I  took  my 
turn.  We  arrived,  however,  safe  and  sound,  at  Bos 
ton,  after  about  a  fortnight's  passage. 

I  had  been  absent  seven  complefe  months,  and  my 
relations,  during  the  interval,  had  received  no  intelli 
gence  of  me ;  for  my  brother-in-law,  Holmes,  was  not 
yet  returned,  and  had  not  written  about  me.  My  un- 
expected  appearance  surprised  the  family ;  but  they' 
were  all  delighted  at  seeing  me  again,  and,  except  my 
brother,  welcomed  me  home,  i  went  to  him  at  the 
printing-hotipc.  I  was  better  dressed  than  1  had  ever 
been  while  in  his  service:  I  had  a  complete  suit  of 
clothes,  new  and  neat,  a  watch  in  my  pocket,  and  my 
purse  was  furnished  with  nearly  five  pounds  sterling 
ui  money.  Me  gave  me  no  very  civil  reception ;  andf 
having  eyed  me  from  head  to  foot,  resumed  his  work. 

The  workmen  asked  me  with  eagerness  where  \ 
had  been,  what  sort  of  a  country  it  was,  and  how  1 
liked  it.  I  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of  Philadelphia, 
the  happy  life  we  led  there,  and  expressed  my  inten 
tion  or  going  back  again.  One  of  them  asking  what 
Tort  of  money  we  had,  I  displayed  before  them  a  hand 
ful  of  silver,  which  I  diew  from  my  pocket.  This  wa? 
a  curiosity  to  which  they  were  not  accustomed,  papei 


10  LIFE  OF 

being  the  current  money  at  Boston.  I  failed  not,  afie? 
this,  to  let  them  see  my  watch ;  and,  at  last,  my  brothei 
continuing  sullen  and  out  of  humour,  I  gave  them  a 
shilling  to  drink,  and  took  my  leave.  This  visit  stung  «- 
my  brother  to  the  soul ;  for  when,  shortly  after,  my 
mother  spoke  to  him  of  a  reconciliation,  and  a  desire 
to  see  us  upon  good  terms,  he  told  her  that  I  had  so 
insulted  him  before  his  men,  that  he  would  never  for 
get  or  forgive  it :  in  this,  however,  he  was  mistaken. 

The  Governor's  letter  appeared  to  excite  in  my  far 
ther  some  surprise ;  but  he  said  little.  After  some  days 
Captain  Holmes  being  returned,  he  showed  it  him, 
asking  him  if  he  knew  Keith,  and  what  sort  of  a  man 
he  was:  adding,  that,  in  his  opinion,  it  proved  very 
little  discernment  to  think  of  setting  up  a  boy  in  busi 
ness,  who,  for  three  years  to  come,  would  not  be  of 
an  age  to  be  ranked  in  the  class  of  men.  Holmes  said 
every  thing  he  could  in  favour  of  the  scheme  ;  but  my 
father  firmly  maintained  its  absurdity,  and  at  last  gave 
a  positive  refusal.  He  wrote,  however,  a  civil  letter 
to  Sir  William,  thanking  him  for  the  protection  he  had 
so  obligingly  offered  me,  but  refusing  to  assist  me  for 
the  present,  because  he  thought  me  too  young  to  be 
entrusted  with  the  conduct  of  so  important  an  enter 
prise,  and  which  would  require  so  considerable  a  sum 
of  money. 

My  old  comrade,  Collins,  who  was  a  clerk  in  the 
post-office,  charmed  with  the  account  I  gave  of  my 
new  residence,  expressed  a  desire  of  going  thither; 
and,  while  I  waited  my  father's  determination,  he  set 
ofl'  before  me  by  land  for  Rhode  Island,  leaving  his 
books,  which  farmed  a  handsome  collection  in  mathe 
matics  and  natural  philosophy,  to  bt  conveyed  with 
mine  to  New-York,  wher?  he  proposed  to  wall  forme. 
My  father,  though  he  could  not  approve  Sir  William  V 
proposal,  was  yet  pleased  that  I  had  obtained  so  ad 
vantageous  a  recommendation  as  that  of  a  person  of 
his  rank,  and  that  my  industry  and  economy  had  ena 
bled  me  to  equip  myself  so  handsomely  in  so  ^short  a 
period.  Seeing  no  appearance  of  accommodating  mat 
ters  between  my  brother  and  me,  he  consented  tt>  my 
return  to  Philadelphia,  advised  me  to  be  civil  to  e*«ry 
body,  to  endeavour  to  obtain  general  esteem,  and  a*  nid 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  41 

satire  and  sarcasm,  to  which  he  thought  I  was  too 
IT. rich  inclined;  adding,  that  with  perseverence  and 
prudent  economy,  1  might,  by  the  time  1  became  of  age, 
save  enough  to  establish  myself  in  business;  and  that 
if  a  small  sum  should  then  be  wanting,  he  would  un 
dertake-to  supply  it. 

This  was  all  I  cculil  obtain  from  him,  except  some 
ir'rfling  presents,  in  token  of  friendship  from  him  and 
my  mother.  I  embarked  once  more  fo?  New -York, 
furnished  at  this  time  wiih  their  approbation  and 
blessing.  The  sloop  having  touched  at  Newport,  in 
Rhode  i&Iawxv,  *  paid  a  visit  to  my  broiher  John,  who 
had  ibr  some  years  been  settled  there,  and  was  married. 
He  had  always  been  at/^hed  to  rne,and  he  received 
rne  with  great  anV.uon.  One  of  his  fucndF,  whose 
name  vvas  Vernon,  having  a  debt  of  about  thirty-six 
pounds-  due  him  in  Pennsylvania,  begged  me  to  receive 
it  for  him,  and  to  keep  the  money  till  1  should  hear 
from  him ;  accordingly  he  gare  me  an  order  for  that 
purpose.  This  affair  occasioned  me,  in  the  sequel, 
much  uneasiness. 

At  Newport  we  took  on  board  a  number  of  passen 
gers;  among  whom  were  two  young  women,  and  a  grave 
and  sensible  quaker  lady  with  her  servants.  1  hud 
shown  an  obliging  forwardness  in  rendering  the  quaker 
some  triflrig  services,  which  led  her,  probably,  to  feel 
an  interest  in  my  welfare;  for  when  she  saw  a  famili 
arity  ''like  place,  and  every  day  increase,  between  the 
two  young  women  and  me,  she  took  me  aside,  and 
said,  "  Young  man,  I  am  in  pain  for  thee.  Thou  hast 
no  parent  to  watch  over  thy  conduct,  and  thou  seemest 
to  be  ignorant  of  the  world,  and  the  snares  to  which 
youth  is  exposed.  Rely  upon  what  I  tell  thee:  those 
aro  women  of  bad  characters;  I  perceive  it  in  alitheii 
actions.  If  thou  dost  not  take  care,  they  will  lead  thee 
into  danger.  They  are  strangers  to  thee,  and  I  advise 
thee,  by  the  friendly  interest  I  take  in  thy  preservation, 
to  fnrm  no  connexion  with  them."  As  I  appealed  at 
first  not  to  think  quite  so  ill  of  them  as  she  did,  she  re 
lated  many  'aiings  she  had  seen  and  heard,  which  had 
escaped  my  attention,  but  which  convinced  me  that 
glte  was  in  the  right.  I  thanked  her  for  her  obi  ging 
advice,  and  iiouiised  to  follow  it. 


4*  LIFE  OF 

When  we  arrived  at  Ncvy-York,  they  informed  me 
where  tliey  lodged,  and  invited  me  to  come  and  »ce 
them.  I  did  not  however  go,  and  it  was  well  I  did  not ; 
for  the  next  day,  the  captain,  missing  a  silver  spoon 
and  some  other  things  which  had  been  taken  from  the 
cabin,  and  knowing  these  women  to  be  prostitutes,  pro 
cured  a  search-warrant,  found  the  stolen  goods  upon 
them,  and  had  them  punished.  And  thus,  after  having 
been  saved  from  one  rock  concealed  under  water,  upon 
which  the  vessel  struck  during  our  passage,  I  escaped 
another  of  a  still  more  dangerous  nature. 

At  New-York,  I  found  my  friend  Collins,  who  had 
arrived  some  time  before.  We  had  been  intimate  from 
our  infancy,  and  had  read  the  same  books  together; 
but  he  had  the  advantage  of  being  able  to  devote  moro 
time  to  reading  and  study,  and  an  astonishing  disposi 
tion  for  mathematics,  in  which  he  left  me  far  behind 
him.  When  at  Boston,  I  had  been  accustomed  to  pass 
with  him  almost  ail  my  leisure  hours.  He  was  then 
n  sober  and  industrious  lad,  his  knowledge  had  gained 
him  a  very  general  esteem,  and  he  seemed  to  promise  to 
make  an  advantageous  figure  in  society.  But,  during 
my  absence,  he  had  unfortunately  addicted  himself  to 
brand}%  and  I  learned,  as  well  from  himself  as  from 
the  report  of  others,  that  every  day  since  his  arrival  at 
New- York,  he  had  been  intoxicated,  and  had  acted  in 
a  very  extravagant  manner.  He  had  also  played  and 
lost  all  his  money ;  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  pay  his  ex 
penses  at  the  inn,  arid  tc  maintain  him  during  tne  rest 
of  his  journey;  a  uurthen  that  was  very  inconvenient 
to  me. 

The  Governor  of  New- York,  whose  name  was  Bcr- 
net,  hearing  the  Captain  say,  that  a  young  man,  who 
Vas  a  passenger  in  his  ship,  had  a  great  number  of 
looks,  begged  him  to  bring  me  to  his  house.  I  accord 
ingly  went,  and  should  have  taken  Collins  with  mo, 
had  he  been  sober.  The  Governor  treated  me  with 
great  Civility,  showed  me  his  library,  which  was  a  very 
considerable  one,  and  we  talked  for  some  time  upon 
books  and  authors.  This  was  the  second  gi/vernor  who 
had  honoured  me  with  his  attention  ;  and  to  a  pom 
l»oy,  as  I  was  then,  these  I'.ttle  adventures  did  not  fail 
fc>  be  pleasing. 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  43 

Vie  arrived  at  Philadelphia.  On  the  way  I  received 
Yenion's  money,  without  which  we  should  have  been 
cnwtble  to  have  finished  our  journey. 

Collins  wished  to  get  employment  as  a  merchant's 
clerk ;  but  either  ni*  breath  or  his  countenance  betray 
ed  his  bad  habit;  for  though  he  had  recommendations, 
he  met  with  no  success,  and  continued  to  lodge  and  eat 
with  me,  and  at  my  expense.  Knowing  that  I  had 
Yemeni's  money,  he  was  continually  asking  me  to  lend 
him  some  of  it ;  promising  to  repay  me  as  soon  as  h 
should  get  employment.  At  last  lie  had  drawn  s«» 
much  of  this  money,  that  I  was  extremely  alarmed  at 
ivhat  might  become  of  me,  should  he  fail  to  make  good 
the  deficiency.  His  habit  of  drinking  did  rw>t  at  all 
diminish,  and  was  a  frequent  source  of  discord  be- 
hveen  us;  for  when  he  had  drank  a  little  too  much, 
he  was  very  headstrong. 

Being  one  day  in  a  boat  together,  on  the  Delaware, 
with  some  Sther  young  persons,  he  refused  to  rake  his 
turn  in  rowing.  "  You  snail  row  forme,"  said  he,  "till 
we  get  home." — "  No,"  I  replied,  "we  will  not  row  for 
you." — "  You  shall,"  said  he,  •'  or  remain  upon  the  wa 
ter  all  nig'n." — 4l  As  you  please."  Lei  us  row,  said  the 
rest  of  the  company  :  what  signifies  whether  he  assists 
or  not.  But,  already  angry  with  him  for  his  conduct 
in  other  respects,  I  persisted  in  my  refusal.  He  then 
swore  that  Vie  wouM  make  me  row,  or  would  throw 
me  out  of  the  boat;  and  lie  made  up  to  me.  As  soon 
as  he  was  within  my  reach,  I  took  him  by  the  collar, 
gave  him  a  violent  thrust,  and  threw  him  head  fbre- 
most  into  the  river.  I  knew  that  he  was  a  good  swim 
mer,  and  was  therefore  under  no  apprehensions  for 
his  life.  Before  he  could  turn  himself,  we  were  able, 
by  a  few  strokes  of  our  oars,  to  place  ourselves  out  of 
his  reach  ;  and,  whenever  he  touched  the  boat,  we  ask 
ed  him  if  he  would  tow,  striking  his  hands  at  the  same 
time  with  the  oars  to  make  him  let  go  his  hold.  He 
was  nearly  sultocated  with  rage,  hut  obstinately  refus 
ed  making  any  promise  to  row.  Perceiving,  at  length, 
that  his  strength  began  to  be  exhausted,  we  took  him 
into  the  boat,  and  conveyed  him  home,  in  the  evening, 
completely  drenched.  The  utmost  coldness  subsisted 
between  us  after  this  adventure.  At  last  the  captain 


44  LIFE  OF 

of  a  West-India  ship,  who  was  commissioned  to  pro. 
cure  a  tutor  for  the  children  of  a  gentleman  at  Barba- 
does,  meeting  with  Collins,  offered  him  the  place.  He 
accepted  it,  and  took  his  leave  of  me,  promising  to 
discharge  the  debt  he  owed  rne  witn  the  first  money 
he  should  receive ;  but  I  have  heard  nothing  of  him 
since. 

The  violation  of  the  trust  reposed  in  me  by  Vernon, 
was  one  of  the  first  great  errors  of  my  life;  and  i 
jvoves  my  father  was  not  mistaken  when  he  supposed 
me  too  young  to  be  entrusted  with  the  management 
of  important  affairs.     But  Sir  William,  upon  reading 
his  letter,  thought  him  too  prudent.    There  was  a  dif 
ference,  he  said,  between  individuals:  years  of  matu 
rity  were  not  always  accompanied  .with  discretion 
neither  was  youth   in  every  instance  devoid   of  it 
**  Since  your  father,"  added  he,  will  not  set  you  up  in 
business,  I  will  do  it  myself.    Make  out  a  list  of  what 
will  be  wanted  from  England,  and  I  will  send  for  the 
articles.    You  shall  repay  me  when  you  can.    1  am  de 
termined  to  have  a  good  printer  here,  and  I  am  sure 
you  will  succeed.1'    This  was  said  with  so  nsuch  seem« 
ing  cordiality,  that  I  suspected  not  for  an  instant  the 
sincerity  of  the  offer.    1  had  hitherto  kept  the  project, 
with  which  Sir  William  had  inspired  me,  of  settling  in 
business,  a  secret  at  Philadelphia,  and  I  still  continued 
to  do  so.     Had  my  reliance  on  the  governor  been 
known,  soms  friend,  better  acquainted  with  his  cha 
racter  than  myself,  would  doubtless  have  advised  me 
not  to  trust  him ;  for  I  afterwards  learned  that  he  was 
universally  known  to  be  liberal  of  promises,  when  h« 
had  no  intention  to  perform.     But  having  never  soli 
cited  him,  how  could  1  suppose  his  offers  to  be  deceit- 
^il?    On  the  contrary,  I  believed  him  to  be  the  bes 
nan  in  the  world. 

I  gave  him  the  inventory  of  a  small  printing-office; 
the  expense  ol'  which  1  had  calculated  at  about  a  hun 
dred  pounds  sterling.  He  expressed  his  approbation  • 
but  askedt;rif  my  presence  in  England,  that  I  might 
choose  the  characters  myself,  and  see  that  every  arti 
cle  was  good  in  its  kind,  would  not  be  an  advantage  ? 
«« You  will  also  be  able,"  said  he,  "to  form  some  ac 
quaintance  there,  and  establish  a  correspondence  with 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  45 

stationers  and  booksellers."  This  I  acknowledged  was 
desirable.  "  That  being  the  case,"  added  he,  "  hold 
yourself  in  readiness  to  go  with  the  Annis."  This  was 
the  annual  vessel,  and  the  only  one,  at  that  time,  which 
made  regular  voyages  between  the  ports  of  London 
and  Philadelphia.  But  the  Annis  was  not  to  sail  for 
some  months.  I  therefore  continued  to  work  with  Kei- 
mer,  unhappy  respecting  the  sum  which  Collins  had 
drawn  from  me,  and  almost  in  continual  agony  at  the 
thoughts  of  Vernon,  who  fortunately  made  no  demand 
of  his  money  till  seven  years  after. 

In  the  account  of  my  first  voyage  from  Boston  to 
Philadelphia,  I  omitted,  I  believe,  a  trifling  circum 
stance,  which  will  not,  perhaps,  be  out  of  place  here. 
During  a  calm,  which  stopped  us  above  Block  Island, 
the  crew  employed  themselves  in  fishing  for  cod,  of 
which  they  caught  a  great  number.  I  had  hitherto 
adhered  to  my  resolution  of  not  eating  any  thing  that 
had  possessed  life  ;  and  I  considered,  on  this  occasion 
agreeably  to  the  maxims  of  my  master  Tyron,  the  cap 
ture  of  every  fish  as  a  sort  of  murder,  committed  with 
out  provocation,  since  these  animals  had  neither  done, 
nor  were  capable  of  doing,  the  smallest  injury  to  any 
one  that  should  justify  the  measure.  This  mode  of 
reasoning  I  conceived  to  be  unanswerable.  Mean 
while,  I  had  formerly  been  extremely  fond  of  fish; 
and,  when  one  of  these  cods  was  taken  out  of  the  fry 
ing-pan,  I  thought  its  flavour  delicious.  I  hesitated 
some  time  between  principle  and  inclination,  till  at 
last  recollecting,  that  when  the  cod  had  been  opened, 
some  small  fish  were  found  in  its  belly,  I  said  to  my 
self,  if  you  eat  one  another,  I  see  no  reason  why  we 
may  not  eat  you.  I  accordingly  dined  on  the  cod  with 
no  small  degree  of  pleasure,  and  have  since  continued 
to  eat  like  the  rest  of  mankind,  returning  only  occa 
sionally  to  my  vegetable  plan.  How  convenient  does 
it  prove  to  be  a  rational  animal,  that  knows  how  to  find 
or  invent  a  plausible  pretext  for  whatever  it  has  an 
inclination  to  do. 

I  continued  to  live  upon  good  terms  with  Keimer, 
who  had  not  the  smallest  suspicion  of  my  projected 
establishment.  He  still  retained  a  portion  of  his  form-' 
er  enthusiasm,  and,  being  fond  of  argument,  we  ire- 


46  LIFE  OF 

quently  disputed  together.  I  was  so  much  in  the  habit 
of  using  my  Socnuic  metho;!,  and  so  frequently  puz 
zled  him  by  my  questions,  which  appeared  at  first 
very  distant  from  the  point  in  dobate,  yet,  nevertheless, 
led  to  it  by  degrees,  involving  him  in  difficulties  and 
contradictions  from  which  he  was  unable  to  extricate 
himself,  that  he  became  at  last  ridiculously  cautious, 
and  would  scarcely  answer  the  most  plain  and  fa 
miliar  question  without  previously  asking  me — What 
would  you  infer  from  that  ?  Hence  he  formed  so  high 
an  opinion  of  my  talents  for  refutation,  that  he  seri 
ously  proposed  to  me  to  become  his  colleague  in  the 
establishment  of  a  new  religious  sect.  He  was  to  pro 
pagate  the  docirine  by  preaching,  and  I  to  relate  every 
opponent 

When  he  explained  to  me  his  tenets,  t  found  many 
absurdities  which  I  refused  to  admit,  unless  he  would 
agree  in  turn  to  adopt  some  of  my  opinions.  Keimer 
wore  his  beard  long,  because  Moses  had  somewhere 
said,  "  Thou  shall  not  rnar  the  corners  of  thy  beard." 
He  likewise  observed  the  Sabbath  ;  awl  these  were 
with  him  two  very  essential  points.  I  disliked  them 
toth ;  but  I  consented  to  adopt  them,  provided  ho 
*vould  agree  to  abstain  from  animal  lood.  "  I  doubt," 
said  he,  "  whether  my  constitution  will  be  able  to  sup 
port  it."  I  assured  him  on  the  contrary,  that  he  would 
find  himself  the  better  for  it.  He  was  naturally  a  glut 
ton,  ajul  1  wished  to  amuse  myself  by  starving  him.  He 
consented  to  make  trial  of  this  regimen,  if  I  would 
bear  him  company;  and,  in  reality,  we  continued  it 
for  three  months.  A  woman  in  the  neighbourhood 
prepared  ami  brought  us  our  victuals,  to  whom  I  gave  a 
list  of  forty  dishes ;  in  the  composition  of  which  there 
entered  neither  flesh  nor  fish.  This  fancy  was  the 
more  agreeable  to  me,  as  it  turned  to  good  account 
for  the  whole  expense  of  our  living  did  not  exceed  for 
each,  eighteen-pence  a  week. 

1  have  since  that  period  observed  several  Jents  with 
the  greatest  strictness,  and  have  suddenly  returned 
again  to  my  ordinary  diet,  without  experiencing  the 
smallest  inconvenience;  which  has  led  me  to  regairt 
as  of  no  importance  the  advice  commonly  given,  of 
introducing  gradually  such  alterations  of  regimen. 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  4* 

I  continued  it  cheerfully;  but  poor  Keimer  suffered 
terribly.  Tired  of  the  project,  he  sighed  for  the  flesh- 
pots  of  Egypt.  At  length  he  ordered  a  roast  pig,  and 
invited  me  and  two  of  our  female  acquaintance  to 
dine  with  him ;  but  the  pig  being  ready  a  little  too  sooti, 
he  could  not  resist  the  temptation,  and  ent  it  all  up 
before  we  arrived. 

During  the  circumstances  I  have  related,  I  had  paid 
some  attentions  to  Miss  Read.  I  entertained  for  her 
the  utmost  esteem  and  affection ;  and  I  had  reason  to 
believe  that  these  sentiments  were  mutual.  But  we 
were  both  young,  scarcely  more  than  eighteen  years 
of  age ;  and,  as  I  was  on  the  point  of  undertaking  a 
long  voyage,  her  mother  though*,  it  prudent  to  prevent 
matters  being  carried  too  far  for  the  present,  judging 
that,  if  marriage  was  our  object,  there  would  be  more 
propriety  in  it  after  my  return,  when,  as  at  least  1 
expected,  I  should  be  established  in  my  business.  Per 
haps  also  she  thought  that  my  expectations  were  not 
so  well  founded  as  I  imagined. 

My  most  intimate  acquaintances  at  this  time  were 
Charles  Osborne,  Joseph  Watson,  and  James  Ralph  5 
young  rnen.who  were  all  fond  of  reading.  The  two  first 
were  clerks  to  Mr.  Charles  Brockdcn,  one  of  the  princi 
pal  attorneys  in  the  town,  and  the  other,  olerk^to  a  mer. 
chant.  Watson  was  an  upright,  pious,  and  sensible 
young^man :  the  others  were  somewhat  more  loose  in 
their  principles  of  religion,  particularly  Ralph,  whose 
faith,  as  well  as  that  of  Collins,  J  had  contributed  to 
shake ;  each  oi"  whom  made  me  suffer  a  very  adequate 
punishment.  Osborne  was  sensible,  and  Sincere  and 
affectionate  in  his  friendships,  but  too  .nuch  inclined 
to  the  critic  in  matters  of  literature.  Ralph  was  in-* 
genious  and  shrewd,  genteel  in  his  address,  and  ex 
tremely  eloquent.  1  do  not  remember  to  have  met  witli 
a  more  agreeable  speaker.  They  were  bet  h  enamoured 
of  the  muses,  and  had  already  evinced  their  passion 
by  some  small  poetical  productions. 

It  was  the  custom  with  us  to  take  a  charming  walk 
on  Sundays,  in  the  waods  that  border  the  SkuylkilL 
Here  we  read  together,  and  afterwards  conversed  o» 
what  we  read.  Ralph  was  disposed  to  give  himself 
up  eiuirely  to  poetry.  He  flattered  himself  that  .» 


48  LIFE  OF 

should  arrive  at  great  eminence  in  the  art,  and  evsn 
acquire  a  fortune.  The  sublimest  poets,  he  pretend 
ed,  when  they  first  began  to  write,  committed  as  many 
fatil's  as  himself.  Osborne  endeavoured  to  dissuade 
him,  by  assuring  him  that  he  had  no  genius  for  poet 
ry,  and  advised  him  to  stick  to  the  trade  in  which  he 
had  been  brought  up.  "In  the  road  of  commerce," 
said  he,  "  you  will  be  sure,  by  diligence  and  assiduity, 
Ihough  you  have  no  capital,  of  so  far  succeeding  as  to 
be  employed  as  a  factor;  and  may  thus,  in  time,  ac 
quire  the  means  of  setting  up  for  yourself."  I  con* 
currcci  in  these  sentiments,  but  at  the  same  time  ex- 
pressed  my  approbation  of  amusing  ourselves  some 
time  with  poetry,  with  a  view  to  iiv.prove  our  style. 
In  consequence  of  this  it  was  proposed,  that,  at  our 
next  meeting,  each  of  us  should  bring  a  copy  of  versos 
of  his  own  composition.  Our  object  in  this  competi 
tion  was  to  benefit  each  other  by  our  mutual  remarks, 
criticisms,  and  corrections;  and  as  style  and  expres 
sion  were  all  we  had  in  view,  we  excluded  every  idea 
of  invention,  by  agreeing  that  our  task  should  be  a 
version  of  the  eighteenth  psalm,  in  which  is  described 
the  descent  of  the  Deity. 

The  time  of"  our  meeting  drew  near,  when  Ralph 
called  upon  me,  and  told  me  that  his  performance 
was  ready.  I  informed  him  that  1  bad  been  idle,  and, 
not  much  liking  the  task,  had  done  nothing.  He  show 
ed  me  his  piece,  and  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  it. 
I  expressed  myself  in  terms  of  warm  approbation ; 
because  it  really  appeared  to  have  considerable  merit. 
He  then  sa'ul,  "  Osborne  will  never  acknowledge,  the 
smallest  decree  ol  excellence  in  any  production  of 
mine.  Envy  alone  dictates  to  him  a  thousand  ani 
madversions.  Of  you,  he  is  not  so  jealous :  I  wish, 
herefore,  you  would  take  the  veises,  and  produce 
them  as  your  own.  I  will  pretend  not  to  have  had 
leisure  to  write  any  thing.  We  shall  then  see  in 
what  manner  nc  will  speak  of  them.  I  agreed  to 
this  little  artifice,  and  immediately  transcribed  the 
verses  to  prevent  all  suspicion. 

We  met.  Watson's  performance  was  the  first  that 
was  read.  It  had  some  beauties,  but  many  faults. 
We  next  read  Osnorn^s,  which  was  much  better. 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  49 

Ralph  did  it  justice,  remarking  a  few  imperfections, 
and  applauding  such  parts  as  were  excellent.  He 
had  himself  nothing  to  show.  It  was  now  my  turn. 
I  made  some  difficulty ;  seemed  as  if  I  wished  to  be 
excused ;  pretended  that  I  had  no  time  to  make  cor 
rections,  fee.  No  excuse,  however,  was  admissible, 
the  piece  must  be  produced.  It  was  read  and  re-read, 
Watson  and  Osborne  immediately  resigne/l  tiie  palm, 
and  united  in  applauding  it.  Ralph  alone  made  a  fe\v 
remarks,  and  proposed  some  alterations ;  but  I  de 
fended  my  text.  Osborne  agreed  with  me,  and  tok\ 
Ralph  that  he  was  no  more  able  to  criticise  than  la 
was  able  to  write. 

When  Osborne  was  alone  with  me,  he  expressed 
himself  still  more  strongly  in  favour  of  what  he  con 
sidered  as  my  performance.  He  pretended  that  he 
had  put  some  restraint  on  himself  before,  apprehensive 
of  my  construing  his  commendations  into  flattery. 
**  But  who  would  have  supposed,"  said  he,  "  Franklin 
to  be  capable  of  such  a  composition  ?  What  paint 
ing,  what  energy,  what  fire!  He  has  surpassed  the 
original.  In  his  common  conversation  he  appears  not 
to  have  a  choice  of  words ;  he  hesitates,  and  is  at  u 
lossf,  and  yet,  good  God,  how  he  writes." 

At  our  next  meeting,  Ralph  discovered  the  trick  we 
had  played  Osborpe,  \vho  was  rallied  without  mercy. 

By  this  adventure  Ralph  was  fixed  in  his  resolution 
of  becoming  a  poe\.  I  left  nothing  unattempted  to 
divert  him  from  his  pin-pose;  but  he  persevered, till 
at  last  the  reading  of'Fop^*  effected  his  cure:  he  be- 
came,  however,  a  very  tolerable  prose  writer.  I  shall 
speak  more  of  him  hereafter1,  hut  as  I  shall  probably 
have  no  farther  occasion  to  mention  the  other  two,  I 
might  to  observe  here,  that  Watsor  died  a  few  yeara 
after  in  iny  arms.  He  was  greatly  regretted  ;  for  ho 
was  the  best  of  our  society.  Osborne  we»t  to  the  is 
lands  where  he  gained  considerable  ceputati'U)  as  a 
barrister,  and  was  getting  money;  but  he  died  young. 

*  Probably  the  Punciad,  where  we  find  him  thusimmor 
talized  by  the  author: 

Silence  ye  wolves,  while  Ralph  to  Cynthia  howls 
And  makes  night  hideous;  answer  him  ye  owls! 


50  Lire  OF 

We  had  seriously  engaged,  that  whoever  died  firstf 
should  return,  if  possible,  and  pay  a  friendly  visit  to 
the  survivor,  to  give  him  an  account  of  the  other 
world ;  but  lie  has  never  fulfilled  his  engagement. 

The  Governor  appeared  to  be  fond  of  my  company, 
and  frequently  invited  me  to  his  house.  He  always 
spoke  of  his  intention  of  settling  me  in  business,  as  a 
po>,it  that  was  decided.  1  was  to  take  with  me  letters 
of  recommendation  to  a  number  of  his  friends ;  and 
particularly  a  letter  of  credit,  in  order  to  obtain  tha 
Biecessary  f.um  for  the  purchase  of  my  press,  types, 
and  paper.  He  appointed  various  times  for  me  to 
come  for  these  letters,  which  would  certainly  be  ready, 
and,  when  I  came,  always  put  me  oft'  to  another  day. 

These  successive  delays  continued  till  the  vessel, 
whose  departure  had  been  several  times  deferred,  was 
on  the  point  cf  setting  sail ;  when  I  again  went  to  Sir 
William's  house,  to  receive  my  letters  and  take  leave 
of  him.  1  saw  his  secretary,  Dr.  Bard,  who  told  me, 
that  the  Governor  was  extremely  busy  writing,  but  that 
he  would-be  down  at  Newcastle  before  the  vessel,  and 
that  the  letters  would  be  delivered  to  me  there. 

Ralph,  though  he  was  married  and  had  a  child,  de 
termined  to  accompany  me  in  this  voyage.  His  ob 
ject  was  supposed  to  be  the  establishing  a  corres 
pondence  with  some  mercantile  houses,  in  order  to 
sell  goods  by  commission :  but  I  afterwards  learned 
that,  having  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  parents 
of  his  wife,  he  proposed  to  himself  to  leave  her  on 
their  hands,  and  never  return  to  America  again. 

Having  taken  leave  of  my  friends,  and  interchang 
ed  promises  of  fidelity  with  Miss  Read,  I  quitted 
Philadelphia.  At  Newcastle,  the  vessel  came  to  an 
chor.  The  Governor  was  arrived,  and  I  went  to  his 
ixlgings.  His  secretary  received  me  with  great  civil- 
ty,  told  me,  on  the  part  of  the  Governor,  that  he  could 
not  see  me  then,  as  he  was  engaged  in  affairs  of  the 
utmost  importance,  but  that  he  would  send  the  letters 
on  board,  and  that  he  wished  me,  with  all  his  heart, 
a  good  voyage  and  speedy  return.  1  returned,  some 
what  astonished,  to  the  ship,  but  still  without  enter 
taining  the  slightest  suspicion. 

Mr,  Hamilton,  a  celebrated  barrister  of  PhJladol- 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  51 

phia,  had  taken  a  passage  to  England  for  himself  and 
his  son,  and,  in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Denham,  a  qua- 
ker,  and  Messrs.  Oniarn  and  Russel,  proprietors  of  a 
forge  in  Maryland,  nan  agreed  for  the  whole  cabin,  so 
that  Ralph  and  I  were  obliged  to  take  up  our  lodg 
ing  w.'th  the  crew.  Being  unknown  to  every  body  in 
ihe  ship,  we  were  looked  upon  as  of  the  cornmor  or 
der  of  people :  but  Mr.  Hamilton  and  his  son  (it  was 
Tames,  who  was  afterwards  governor)  left  us  at  New 
castle,  and  returned  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  was 
recalled  at  a  very  great  expense,  to  plead  the  cause  oi 
a  vessel  that  had  been  seized ;  and  just  as  we  were 
about  to  sail,  Colonel  French  came  on  board,  and 
showed  me  many  civilities.  The  passengers  upon 
this  paid  me  more  attention,  and  I  was  invited,  to 
gether  »vith  my  friend  Ralph,  to  occupy  the  place  in 
the  cabin  which  the  return  of  the  Messrs.  Hamiltons 
had  made  vacant ;  an  oner  which  we  very  readily 
accepted. 

Having  learned  that  the  despatches  of  the  Governor 
had  been  brought  on  board  by  Colonel  French,  i  asked 
the  captain  for  the  letters  that  were  to  be  entrusted  to 
my  care.  He  told  me  that  they  were  all  put  together 
in  the  bag,  which  he  could  not  open  at  present ;  but, 
before  we  reached  England,  he  would  give  me  an  op 
portunity  of  taking  them  out.  I  was  satisfied  with 
this  answer,  and  we  pursued  our  voyage. 

The  company  in  the  cabin  were  all  very  sociable, 
and  we  were  perfectly  well  off  as  to  provisions,  as 
we  had  the  advantage  of  the  whole  of  Mr.  Hamil 
ton's,  who  had  laid  in  a  very  plentiful  stock.  During 
the  passage,  Mr.  Denham  contracted  a  friendship  for 
me,  which  ended  only  with  his  life:  in  other  respects 
the  voyage  was  by  no  means  an  agreeable  one,  as  w 
had  much  bad  weather. 

When  we  arrived  in  the  river,  the  captain  was  aj 
goou  as  his  word,  and  allowed  me  to  search  HI  the 
bag  for  the  Governor's  letters.  I  could  not  find  a 
single  one  with  my  name  written  on  it,  as  committed 
to  my  care  ;  but  1  selected  six  or  seven,  which  I  judged 
from  th«  direction  to  be  those  that  were  intended 
for  me ;  particularly  one  to  Mr.  Basket,  the  King'f 
printer,  >\nU  another  to  a  stationer,  who  was  the  firrt 
3 


52  LIFB.  OF 

person  I  cabled  upon.  I  delivered  him  the  letter  at 
coming  f<ron«  Governor  Keith.  "  I  have  no  acquaint 
ance,"  said  he,  "  with  any  such  person;"  and  open 
ing  the  lettsr,  "Oh,  it  is' from  Riddlesden  !"  he  ex 
claimed.  "  I  have  lately  discovered  him  to  be  a  very 
arrant  bna^e,  and  wish  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him  or  his  letters."  He  instantly  put  the  letter  into 
my  hand,  turned  upon  his  heel,  and  left  me,  to  serve 
some  customers. 

1  was  astonished  at  finding  these  letters  were  hot 
from  the  Governor.  Reflecting,  and  putting  circum 
stances  together,  I  then  began  to  doubt  his  sincerity, 
I  rejoined  my  friend  Denham,  and  related  the  whole 
affair  to  him.  He  let  me  at  once  into  Keith's  cha 
racter,  told  me  there  was  not  the  least  probability 
of  his  having  written  a  single  letter  ;  that  no  one  who 
knew  him  ever  placed  any  reliance  on  him,  and  laugh 
ed  at  my  credulity  in  supposing  that  the  Governor 
would  give  me  a  letter  of  credit,  when  he  had  no 
credit  wr  himself.  As  I  showed  some  uneasiness  res 
pecting  what  step  I  should  take,  he  advised  me  to  try 
to  get  employment  h,  the  house  of  some  printer. 
**  You  may  there,"  said  he,  "  improve  yourself  in 
business,  and  you  will  be  able  to  settle  yourself  the 
more  advantageously  when  you  return  to  America." 
We  knew  already  as  well  as  the  stationer,  attorney 
Riddlesdun  to  be  a  knave.  He  had  nearly  ruined 
the  fatner  of  Miss  Read,  by  drawing  him  in  to  be  his 
security.  We  learned  from  his  letter,  that  he  was 
A  secretly  carrying  on  an  intrigue,  in  concert  with  the 
^  Governor,  to  the  prejudice  of  Mr.  Hamilton,  who,  it 
was  supposed,  would,  by  this  time,  be  in  Europe. 
Denharr.,  who  was  Hamilton's  friend,  was  of  opinion 
/hat  he  ought  to  bo  made  acquainted  wi-th  it ;  and,  in 
reality,  the.  instant  he  arrived  in  England,  which  was 
very  eorm  after,  I  waited  on  h>m,  and  as  much  from 
good  will  to  him,  as  from  resentment  against  the  Go- 
vernor,  put  thrt  lener  into  his  hands.  He  thanked  m« 
very  sJncerely,  the  information  it  contained  being  of 
consequence  to  him  ;  and  from  that  moment  bestow 
ed  on  me  his  friendship,  which  afterwards  proved, 
on  ma-^y  occasions,  serviceable  to  me. 
Bui  ivhat  are  we  to  think  of  a  Governor  who  rwM 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  53 

play  so  scurvy  a  trick,  and  thus  grossly  deceive  a  poor 
young  lad,  wholly  destitute  of  experience?  It  was  a 
practice  with  him.  Wishing  to  please  every  body,  and 
having  lijttle  to  bestow,  he  was  lavish  of  promises-  He 
was,  in  other  respects,  sensible  and  judicious,  a  very 
tolerable  writer,  and  a  good  governor  for  the  people ; 
though  not  so  for  the  proprietaries,  whose  instruction* 
he  frequently  disregarded.  Many  of  our  Lest  law 
were  his  work,  and  established  during  his  administra 
ion. 

Ralph  and  I  were  inseparable  companions.  W 
took  a  lodging  together  at  three  and  sixpence  a-week, 
which  was  as  much  as  we  could  afford.  He  met  with 
some  relations  in  London,  but  they  were  poor,  and  nol 
able  to  assist  him.  He  now,  for  the  first  time,  inform 
ed  me  of  his  intention  to  remain  in  England,  and  that 
he  had  no  thoughts  of  ever  returning  to  Philadelphia. 
He  was  totally  without  money;  the  litile  he  had  been 
able  to  raise  having  barely  sufficed  for  his  passage.  J 
had  still  fifteen  pistoles  remaining;  and  to  me  he  had 
from  time  to  time  recourse,  while  he  tried  to  get  em 
ployment. 

At  first  believing  himself  possessed  of  talents  for 
the  stage,  he  thought  of  turning  actor;  but  WiJkes,  to 
whoik  he  applied,  frankly  advised  him  to  renounce 
the  idea,  as  it  was  impossible  he  could  succeed.  He 
next  proposed  to  Roberts,  a  bookseller  in  Paternos 
ter-row,  to  write  a  weekly  paper  in  the  manner  of  the 
Spectator,  upon  terms  to  which  Roberts  would  not  lis 
ten.  Lastly,  he  endeavoured  to  procure  employmml 
as  a  copyist,  and  applied  10  the  lawyers  and  stationers 
about  the  Temple,  but  he  could  find  no  vacancy. 

As  to  myself,  J  immediately  got  engaged  at  Palmer1^ 
at  that  time  a  noted  printer  in  Bartholomew-close, 
with  whom  1  continued  nearly  a  year.  I  applied  very 
assiduously  to  my  work ;  but  1  expended  with  Ralph 
almost  all  that  1  earned.  Plays,  and  other  planes  of 
amusement,  which  we  frequented  together,  having  ex 
hausted  my  pistoles,  we  lived  after  this  from  hand  to 
mouth.  He  appeared  to  have  entirely  forgotten  his 
wife  and  child,  as  1  also,  by  degrees,  forgot  my  en 
gagements  with  Miss  Read,  to  whom  I  never  wrote 
more  than  one  letter,  and  that  merely  to  inform  her 


54  LIFE  OF 

that  I  was  not  likely  to  return  soon.  This  wus  art- 
other  grand  eriorof  my  life,  which  I  should  be  desir 
ous  of  correcting  were  [  to  begin  my  career  again. 

I  \vas  employed  at  Palmer's  on  the  second  edition 
of  Woolaston's  Religion  of  Nature.  Some  of  his  ar 
guments  appearing  to  rne  not  to  be  well  founded,  I 
wrote  a  small  metapnysical  treatise,  in  which  I  ani 
mad  verted  on  ihose  passages.  It  was  entitled  a  "Dis 
sertation  on  Liberty  and  Necessity,  Pleasure  and  Pain. 
^dedicated  it  to  my  friend  Ralph,  and  printed  a  smal 
number  of  copies.  Palmer,  upon  this,  treated  me  with 
move  consideration,  and  regarded  me  as  a  ycrung  man 
of  talents;  though  he  seriously  took  me  to  task  for  the 
principles  of  my  pamphlet,  which  he  looked  upon  as 
abominable.  The  printing  of  this  work  was  another 
error  of  my  life. 

While  I  lodged  in  Little  Britain,  I  formed  an  ac 
quaintance  with  a  bookseller  of  the  name  of  Wilcox, 
whose  shop  was  next  door  to  me.  Circulating  libra 
ries  were  not  then  in  use.  He  had  an  immense  col 
lection  of  books  of  all  sorts.  We  agreed  that,  for  a 
reasonable  retribution,  ef  which  I  have  now  forgotten 
the  price,  I  should  have  free  access  to  his  library,  and 
take  what  books  1  pleased,  which  I  was  to  return 
when  I  had  read  them,  i  considered  this  agreement 
as  a  very  great  advantage ;  and  I  derived  from  it  as 
much  benefit  as  was  in  my  power. 

My  pamphlet  falling  into  the  hands  of  a  surgeon, 
of  the  name  of  Lyons,  author  rf  a  book  entitled,  "  In 
fallibility  of  Human  Judgment,"  was  the  occasion 
of  a  considerable  intimacy  between  us.  He  expressed 
great  esteem  for  me,  came  frequently  to  see  me,  in 
order  to  converse  upon  metaphysical  subjects,  and 
Introduced  me  to  Dr.  Mandeville,  author  of  the  Fa 
de  of  the  Bees,  who  had  instituted  a  club  at  a  tavem 
in  Cheapside,  of  which  he  was  the  soul :  he  was  a 
facetious  and  very  amusing  character.  He  also  in 
troduced  me,  at  Batson's  coffee-house,  to  Dr.  Pern- 
berton,  who  promised  to  give  me  an  opportunity  of 
teeing  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  which  I  very  ardently  de 
sired  ;  but  he  never  kept  his  \vord. 

I  had  brought  some  curiosities  with  me  from  Ame 
rica  ;  the  principal  of  which  was  a  purse  made  of 


DR.  FfcANKLlN.  55 

the  asbestos^  which  fire  only  purifies.  Sir  Hans  Sloane 
hearing  of  it,  called  upon  me,  and  invited  ne  to  his 
house  in  Bloomstmry-square,  where,  after  showing  me 
every  tning  that  was  cunous,  he  prevailed  Qn  me  to 
add  this  piece  to  his  collection ;  for  which  he  paid  me 
very  handsomely. 

There  lodged  in  the  same  house  with  us  a  young 
woman,  a  milliner,  who  had  a  shop  by  the  side  of  the 
Exchange.  Li\  ely  and  sensible,  and  having  received 
an  education  somewhat  above  her  rank,  her  conversa 
tion  was  very  agreeable.  Ralph  read  pays  to  her 
every  evening.  They  became  intimate.  She  took 
another  lodging,  a..d  be  followed  her.  They  lived  for 
some  lime  together  ;  but  Ralph  being  without  employ 
ment,  she  having  a  child,  and  the  profits  of  her  busi 
ness  not  sufficing  for  the  maintenance  of  three,  he  re 
solved  to  quit  London,  and  try  a  country  school.  This 
was  a  plan  in  which  he  thought  himself  likely  to  suc 
ceed  ;  a?  he  wrote  a  fine  band,  and  was  versed  in 
arithmetic  and  accounts.  But  considering  the  office 
as  beneath  him,  arid  expecting  some  day  to  make  a 
better  figure  in  the  world,  when  he-should  be  ashamed 
of  its  b%ing  known  that  he  had  exercised  a  profession 
so  little  honourable,  he  changed  his  name,  and  did 
me  the  honour  of  assuming  mine,  lie  wrote  to  me, 
soon  after  his  departure,  informing  me  that  he  was 
settled  at  a  small  village  in  Berkeshire.  In  his  letter 
he  recommended  Mrs.  T.  the  milliner,  to  my  care,  and 
requested  an  answer,  directed  to  Mr.  Franklin,  school 
master,  at  N***. 

He  continued  to  write  to  me  frequently,  sending  me 
large  fragments  of  an  epic  poem  he  was  composing, 
and  which  he  requested  me  to  criticise  and  correct. 
I  did  so%but  not  without  endeavouring  to  prevail  on 
him  to  renounce  this  pursuit.  Young  had  just  pub 
lished  one  of  his  Satires.  1  copied  and  sent  him  a 
great  part  of  it ;  in  whir.h  the  author  demonstrates 
the  folly  of  cultivating  the  muses,  from  the  hope,  by 
their  instrumentality,  of  rising  in  the  world,  it  was 
all  to  no  purpose;  paper  after  paper  of  his  poem  con 
tinued  to  arrive  ever}'-  post. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  T***  having  lost,  on  his  account, 
both  iwr  friends  and  business,  was  frequently  in  djs« 


56  LlfcE  OF 

tress.  In  this  dilemma  she  had  recourse  to  me,  and, 
to  extricate  her  from  her  difficulties,  I  lent  her  all  the 
money  I  could  spare.  I  felt  a  little  too  much  fond 
ness  for  her.  Having  at  that  time  no  ties  of  religion, 
and,  taking  advantage  of  her  necessitous  situation,  I 
attempted  liberties  (another  error  of  my  life,)  which 
she  repelled  with  becoming  indignation.  She  informed 
Ralph  of  my  conduct;  and  the  affair  occasioned  a 
breach  between  us.  When  he  returned  to  London 
lie  gave  me  to  understand  that  he  considered  all  th 
obligations  he  owed  me  as  annihilated  by  this  pro 
ceeding  ;^  whence  I  concluded  that  I  was  never  to  ex* 
pect  the  payment  of  what  money  \  had  lent  him,  or 
advanced  on  his  account.  I  was  the  less  afflicted  at 
this,  as  he  was  wholly  unable  to  pay  me  ;  and  as,  by 
losing  his  friendship,  I  was  relieved  at  the  same  time 
from  a  very  heavy  burden. 

I  now  began  to  think  of  laying  by  some  money, 
The  printing-house  of  Watts,  near  LincolnVinn- 
tields,  being  a  still  more  considerable  one  than  that 
in  which  1  worked,  it  was  probable  1  might  find  it 
more  advantageous  to  be  employed  there.  ^1  offered 
myself,  and  was  accepted  ;  and  in  this  house  I  con 
tinued  during  the  remainder  of  my  stay  in  London. 

On  my  entrance,  I  worked  at  first  as  a  pressman, 
conceiving  that  I  had  need  of  bodily  exercise,  to 
which  I  had  been  accustomed  in  America,  where  the 
printers  work  alternately  as  compositors  and  at  the 
press.  I  urarik  nothing  but  water.  The  other  work 
men,  to  the  number  of  about  fifty,  were  great  drinkers 
of  beer.  I  carried,  occasionally,  a  large  form  of  letters 
in  each  hand,  up  and  down  stairs,  while  the  rest  em 
ployed  both  hands  to  carry  one.  They  were  surprised 
o  see,  by  this,  and  many  other  examples*  that  the 
American  Aquatic,  as  they  used  to  call  me,  wai 
stronger  than  those  who  drank  porter.  The  beer  boy 
ha.d  sufficient  employment  during  the  whole  day  in 
serving  tha%  house  alone.  My  fellow-pressman  drank, 
every  day,  a  pint  of  beer  before  breakfast,  a  pint  with 
bread  and  cheese  for  breakfast,  one  between  breakfast 
and  dinner,  one  at  dinner,  one  again  about  six  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  and  another  after  he  had  finished  his 
day's  work.  This  custom  appeared  to  me  abomina- 


TO.  FRANKLIN.  57 

Die ;  but  he  had  need,  he  said,  of  all  thii  tw»r,  in  01*  , 
der  to  acquire  strength  to  work. 

I  endeavoured  to  convince  him  that  the  bodily 
strength  furnished  by  the  beer,  could  only  be  in  pro 
portion  to  the  solid  part  of  the  barley  dissolved  in  the 
water  of  which  the  beer  was  composed ;  that  there 
was  a  larger  portion  of  flour  in  a  penny  lor  f,  and  that 
consequently  if  he  ate  this  loaf,  and  dranA  a  pint  of 
water  with  it,  he  would  derive  more  strength  from  i 
than  from  a  pint  of  beer.  This  reasoning,  however 
did  not  prevent  him  from  drinking  his  accustomed 
quantity  of  beer,  and  paying  every»  Saturday  night  a 
score  of  four  or  five  shillings  a-week  for  tnis  cursed 
beverage ;  an  expense  from  which  I  was  wholly  ex 
empt.  Thus  do  these  poor  devils  contir  ue  all  their 
lives  in  a  state  of  voluntary  wretchedness  and  po 
verty. 

At  the  end  of  a  few  weeks,  Watts  having  occasion 
for  me  above  stairs  as  a  compositor,  I  quitted  the 
p/ess.  The  compositors  demanded  of  me  garnish- 
money  afresh.  This  I  considered  as  an  imposition, 
having  already  paid  below.  The  master  was  of  the 
same  opinion,  and  desired  me  not  to  comply.  I  thus 
remained  two  or  three  weeks  out  of  tha  fraternity.  1 
was  consequently  looked  upon  as  excomn  unicated; 
and  whenever  I  was  absent,  no  little  trick  that  ma 
lice  could  suggest  was  left  unpractised  upon  me.  I 
found  my  letters  mixed,  my  pages  transposed,  rny 
matter  broken,  &c.  &,c.  all  which  was  attributed  to 
the  spirit  that  iiaunted  the  chapel,*  and  tormented 
those  that  were  not  regularly  admitted.  I  was  at  last 
obliged  to  submit  to  pay,  notwithstanding  the  protec 
tion  of  the  master ;  convinced  of  the  folly  of  not  keep- 
ng  up  a  good  understanding  with  those  among  whon 
we  are  destined  to  live.  «• 

After  this  I  lived  in  the  utmost  harmony  with  riy 
fellow -labourers,  and  soon  acquired  considerable  in 
fluence  among  them.  I  proposed  some  alteration  in 
the  laws  of  the  chapel,  which  I  carried  without  rnp~ 
sitkm.  My  example  prevailed  with  several  of  t 

*  Priming-houses  in  general  are  thus  denominated  by  Uw 
workmen  :  the  t fir  it  they  call  by  the  name  of  lialfk. 


68  LIFE  OF 

to  renounce  their  abominable  practice  of  bread  and 
cheose  with  beer ;  and  they  procured,  like  me,  from 
a  neighbouring  house,  a  good  babi.n  of  warm  gmeJ, 
in  which  was  a  small  slice  of  butter,  with  toast'vl 
bread  and  nutmeg.  This  was  a  much  better  brea^- 
fast.  which  did  not  cost  more  than  a  pint  of  beer, 
namely,  three-halfpence,  and  at  the  same  time  pre 
served  the  head  clearer.  Those  who  continued  to 
|,orge  themselves  with  beer,  often  lost  their  credit  with 
Sic  publican,  from  neglecting  to  pay  their  score.  They 
had  then  recourse  to  me,  to  become  security  for  them-, 
their  light,  as  they  used  to  call  it,  being  out.  1  at 
tended  at  the  pay-table  every  Saturday  evening,  to 
take  up  the  little  sum  which  I  had  made  myself  an- 
iwerahle  for;  and  which  sometimes  amounted  to 
nearly  thirty  shillings  a  week. 

'Iliis  circumstance,  added  to  my  reputation  of  be- 
big  a  tolerable  good  gabber,  or,  in  other  words,  skilful 
'f\  'Jie  art  of  burlesque,  kept  up  my  importance  in  th« 
chapel.  I  had  besides  recommended  myself  to  the 
esteem  of  my  rna?',er  by  my  assiduous  application  to 
business,  never  observing  Saint  Monday.  My  extra 
ordinary  quickness  in  composing  always  procured 
me  such  work  as  was  most  urgent,  and  which  is  com 
monly  best  paid  ;  and  thus  my  time  passed  awuy  in 
a  very  pleasant  mariner. 

My  lodging,  in  Liitle  Britain  being  too. far  from  the 
printing-house,  I  took  another  in  Duke-street,  oppo 
site  the  Roman  Catholic  chapel.  It  was  at  tlie  back 
of  an  Italian  warehouse.  The  house  was  kept  by  a 
widow,  who  bad  a  daughter,  a  servant,  and  a  shop- 
boy  ;  but  the  latter  slept  out  of  the  house.  After 
sending  to  the  people  with  whom  I  lodged  in  Little 
Britain,  to  inquire  into  my  character,  she  agreed  to 
take  me  in  at  the  same  price,  three  and  sixpence  a 
week:  contenting  herself,  she  said,  with  so  little,  be 
cause  of  the  security  she  should  derive,  as  they  were 
all  women,  from  having  a  man  lodger  in  the  house. 

She  was  a  woman  rather  advanced  in  life,  the 
daughter  of  a  clergyman.  She  had  been  educated  a 
Protestant;  but  her  husband,  whose  memory  she 
highly  revered,  had  converted  he»-  to  the  Catholic  re- 
She  had  lived  iu  habits  of  intimacy  with 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  53 

persons  of  distinction ;  of  whom  she  knew  various 
anecdotes  as  far  back  as  the  time  of  Charles  II.  Be 
ing  subject  to  fits  of  the  gout,  which  often  confined 
her  to  her  room,  she  was  sometimes  disposed  to  sea 
company.  Her's  was  so  amusing  to  me,  that  I  was 
glad  to  pass  the  evening  with  her  as  often  as  slve  De 
sired  it.  Our  supper  consisted  only  of  half  an  a.i- 
chovy  a-piece,  upon  a  slice  of  bread  and  butter,  with 
half  a  pint  of  ale  between  us.  But  the  entertainment 
was  in  her  conversation. 

The  ea.ly  hours  I  kept,  and  the  little  trouble  1  oc 
casioned  hi  the  family,  made  her  loth  to  part  with  | 
me ;  and  when  I  mentioned  another  lodging  I  had 
found,  nearer  the  printing-house,  at  t*"O  shillings  a- 
week,  which  fell  in  with  my  plan  of  saving,  she  per 
suaded  me  to  give  it  up,  making  herself  an  abatement 
of  two  shillings:  and  thus  I  continued  to  lodge  with 
her,  during  the  remainder  of  my  abodw  in  London,  at 
eighteen-pence  a  week. 

In  a  garret  of  tne  hou?e  there  lived,  in  a  most  re 
tired  manner,  a  lady,  seventy  years  of  age,  of  whom 
I  received  the  following  account  from  my  landlady. 
She  was  a  Roman  Catholic.  In  her  early  years  she 
had  been  sent  to  the  continent,  and  entered  a  convent 
with  the  design  of  becoming  a  nun  ;  but  the  climate 
not  agreeing  with  her  constitution,  she  was  obliged 
to  return  to  England,  where,  as  there  were  no  monas 
teries,  she  made  a  vow  to  lead  a  monastic  life,  in  as 
rigid  a  manner  as  circumstances  would  permit.  She 
accordingly  disposed  of  all  her  property  to  he  applied 
to  charitable  uses,  reserving  to  herself  only  twelve 
pounds  a  year:  and  of  this  small  pittance  she  gave  a 
part  to  the  poor,  living  on  watergruel,  and  never 
making  use  of  fire  but  to  boil  it.  She  had  lived  in 
this  garret  a  great  many  years,  without  paying  ren 
to  the  successive  Catholic  'inhabits  its  that  had  kep» 
the  house;  who  indeed  considered  her  abode  with 
them  as  a  blessing.  A  piiast  came  every  day  to  con 
fess  her.  "  I  have  asked  her,"  said  my  landlady, 
u  how,  living  as  she  did,  she  couid  find  so  much  em 
ployment  for  a  ccnfessor?  To  which  she  answered, 
that  it  was  impossible  to  avoid  vain  thoughts." 

I  was  once  permitted  to  visit  her.    She  was  choer 
3  * 


60  LIFE  OF 

ful  and  polite,  and  her  conversation  agreeable.  Her 
apartment  was  neat:  but  the  whole  furniture  con 
sisted  of  a  mattfess,  a  table,  on  which  was  a  crucifix 
and  a  book,  a  chair,  which  she  gave  me  to  sit  on,  and 
«ver  the  mantlepicce  a  picture  of  St.  Veronica  dis 
playing  her  handkerchief,  on  which  was  seen  die  mi- 
rcxulous  impression  of  the  face  of  Christ,  winch  she 
explained  to  me  with  great  gravity.  Her  countenance 
was  pale,  but  she  had  never  experiei  /?,ed  sickneas ; 
and  I  may  adduce  her  as  another  proof  how  little  ia 
sufficient  to  maintain  life  and  health. 

At  the  printing-house,  1  contracted  an  intimacy 
with  a  sensJole  young  man  of  the  name  of  Wygate, 
Jvho,  as  his  parents  were  in  good  circumstances,  had 
received  a  better  education  than  is  common  among 
printers.  He  was  a  tolerable  Latin  scholar,  spoke 
French  fluently,  and  was  fond  of  reading.  I  taught 
Vim,  as  wrell  as  a  friend  oi  his,  to  swim,  by  taking 
Jliem  twice  oniy  into  the  river;  after  which  they 
stood  in  need  of  no  farther  assistance.  We  one  day 
made  a  party  to  go  by  water  to  Chelsea,  in  order  to 
see  the  Lollege,  and  Don  Soltero's  curiositie-s.  On 
our  return,  at  the  request  of  the  company,  whose  cu 
riosity  Wygate  had  excited,  I  undressed  myself,  and 
leaped  into  the  river.  I  swam  from  near  Chelsea  th« 
whole  way  to  Black-friars-bridge,  exhibiting,  during 
my  course,  a  variety  of  feats  of  activity  and  address, 
both  upon  the  surface  of  the  water,  as  well  as  under 
it.  Tliis  sight  occasioned  much  astonishment  and 
pleasure  to  Those  to  whom  it  was  new.  In  my  youth 
1  took  great  delight  in  this  exercise.  I  knew,  and 
could  execute,  ah  the  evolutions  and  positions  of 
Theveno4 ;  and  1  added  to  them  some  of  my  own 
invention,  in  which  I  endeavoured  to  unite  graceful 
ness  and  utility.  1  took  a  pleasure  in  displaying  them 
all  on  this  occasion,  and  was  highly  flattered  with  the 
admiration  they  excited. 

Wygate,  besides  his  being  desirous  of  perfecting 
himself  in  this  ar  ,  was  the  more  attached  to  me  from 
there  being,  in  other  repects,  a  conformity  in  our 
tastes  and  studies.  He  at  length  proposed  to  me  to 
make  the  tour  of  Europe  with  him,  maintaining  our 
se'ves  at  the  same  time  by  woiking  at  our  profession. 


DK.  FRANKLIN.  61 

vas  on  the  point  of  consenting,  when  I  mentioned 
A  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Denham,  with  whom  I  was  glad 
Sc*  pass  an  hour  whenever  I  had  leisure.  He  dis 
suaded  me  from  the  project,  and  advised  me  to  think 
of  returning  to  Philadelphia,  which  he  was  about  to 
do  himself.  I  must  relate  hi  this  place  a  trait  of  this 
worthy  maVs  character. 

He  had  formerly  been  in  business  at  Bristol?  but 
failing,  he  compounded  with  his  creditors,  auu  de 
parted  for  America,  where,  by  assiduous  application 
*s  a  merchant,  he  acquired  in  a  few  years  a  very  con- 
siderable  fortune.  Returning  to  England  in  the  same 
vessel  with  myself,  as  I  Jiave  related  above,  l.e  in 
vited  all  hiis  old  creditors  to  a  least.  When  assem 
bled,  he  thanked  them  for  the  readh^ess  with  which 
they  had  received  his  small  composition  ;  and,  while 
they  expected  nothing  more  than  a  simple  entertain 
ment,  each  found  under  his  plate,  when  it  cam*  to  be 
removed,  a  draft  upon  a  banker  for  the  residue  of  hif 
debt,  with  interest. 

He  told  me  that  it  was  his  intention  to  carry  back 
with  him  to  Philadelphia,  a  great  quantity  of  goods, 
in  order  to  open  a  »tore ;  and  he  offered  to  take  me 
with  him  in  the  capacity  of  clerk,  to  keep  his  books, 
in  which  he  would  instruct  ire,  copy  letters,  ar.d  su 
perintend  the  store.  He  added,  that  as  soon  as  I  had 
acquired  a  knowledge  of  mercantile  transactions,  he 
would  improve  my  situation,  by  sending  iv/s  with  a 
cargo  of  corn  and  Hour  to  the  American  islands,  ami 
by  procuring  me  other  lucrative  commissions ;  so  that, 
with  good  management  an<l  econjomy,  1  might  in  tune 
begin  business  with  advantage  for  myself. 

I  relished  these  proposals.  London  began  to  tire 
me ;  the  agreeable  hour?  1  hacl  passed  at  Philadelphia 
presented  themselves  to  my  minu,  and  1  wished  KI 
see  them  revive.  J  consequently  engaged  myself  to 
M.r.  Denham,  at  a  salary  of  fifty  pounds  a  year.  This 
was  indeed  less  than  1  earned  as  a  composite),  but 
then  I  had  a  much  fairer  prospect.  1  took  leave, 
therefore,  as  1  believed  for  ever,  of  printing,  and  gave 
myself  up  to  my  new  occupation,  spending  all  my 
time  either  in  going  from  house  to  house  with  Mr. 
Deuham  to  purchase  goods,  or*  in  packing  tii  T  up, 


M,  LIFE  OP 

or  in  expediting  the  workmen,  £c.  &c.  When  every 
thing,  however,  was  on  board,  1  had  at  last  a  few 
days  leisure. 

During  this  interval,  1  wa?  one  day  sent  for  by  a 
gentleman,  whom  I  knew  only  by  name.  It  was  Sir 
Wiiliam  Wyndham.  1  went* to  his  house.  He  had 
by  seme  means  heard  of  my  performances  between 
Chelsea  and  Blackfriars,  and  that  I  had  taught  thw 
ar*  V  swimming  to  Wygate  and  another  young  man 
in  ttie  course  of  a  few  hours.  His  two  sons  were  on 
fhe  point  of  setting  out  on  their  travels;  he  was  de 
sirous  that  they  should  previously  learn  to  swim,  and 
offered  me  a  very  liberal  reward  if  1  would  undertake 
to  instruct  them.  They -were  not  yet  arrived  in  town, 
and  the  stay  I  should  make  was  uncertain  ;  1  could 
not  therefore  accept  his  proposal.  I  was  led,  how 
ever,  to  suppose  from  this  incident,  that  if  1  had 
wished  to  remain  in  London,  and  open  a  swimming 
school,  I  should  perhaps  have  gained  a  great  deal  of 
money.  The  idea  struck  me  so  forcibly,  that,  had 
the  offci  been  made  sooner,  I  should  have  dismissed 
the  thought  of  returning  as  yet  to  America.  Some 
years  after,  you  and  I  had  a  more  important  business 
to  settle  vviih  one  of  the  sons  of  Sir  William  Wynd 
ham,  then  Lord  Egremont.  But  let  us  not  anticipate 
events. 

I  thus  passed  about  eighteen  months  in  London, 
working  almost  without  intermission  at  my  trade, 
avoiding  all  expense  on  my  own  account,  except  go 
ing  now  and  then  to  the  P'a3r>  suid.  purchasing  a  few 
books.  But  my  friend  Ralph  kept  me  poor.  He  owed 
me  about  twenty-seven  pounds,  which  was  so  much 
money  lost:  arid  when  considered  as  taken  from  my 
little  savings,  was  a  very  great  sum.  I  had,  notwith- 
f*anding  this,  a  regard  for  him,  as  he  possessed  many 
amiabie  qualities.  But  though  I  had  done  nothing 
for  myself  in  point  of  fortune,  1  had  increased  my 
stock  of  knowledge,  either  by  the  many  excellent 
books  I  had  read,  or  the  conversation  of  learned  and 
literary  persons  with  whom  1  was  acquainted. 

We  sailed  from  Gravesend  on  the  23d  of  July, 
1726.  For  tLiC  incidents  of  my  voyage  I  refer  you  to 
t«y  Journal,  where  you  will  find  all  its  circumstances 


DR.  FRAJNKJL1N.  63 

minutely  related.    We  landed  at  Philadelphia  on  the 
llth  of  the  following  October. 

Keith  had  been  deprived  of  his  office  of  governor, 
and  was  succeeded  by  Major  Gordon.  1  met  him 
walking  in  the  streets  as  a  private  individual.  He 
appeared  a  little  ashamed  at  seeing  me,  but  passed 
on  without  saying  ar<y  thing. 

1  should  have  been  equally  ashamed  myself  at 
meeting  Miss  Read,  had  not  her  family,  justly  des 
pairing  of  my  return  "after  reading  my  letter,  advised 
her  to  give  me  up,  anc!  marry  a  potter,  of  the  namo 
of  Rogers;  to  which  she  consented:  but  he  never 
made  her  happy,  and  she  soon  separated  from  him, 
refusing  to  cohabit  with  him,  or  even  bear  his  name, 
on  account  of  a  report  which  prevailed,  of  his  naving 
another  wife.  His  skill  in  his  profession  had  seduced 
Miss  Read's  parents;  but  he  was  as  bad  9.  subject  as 
he  was  excellent  as  a  workman.  He  involved  him 
self  in  debt,  and  fled,  in  the  year  1727  or  1728,  to  the 
West  Indies,  where  he  died. 

During  my  absence,  Keimer  had  taken  a  more  con 
siderabl'e  house,  in  which  he  kept  a  shop,  that  was 
well  supplied  with  paper,  aiH  various  other  articles. 
He  had  procured  some  new  ly[:es,  and  a  number  oi 
workmen  ;  among  whom,  however,  there  was  not  one 
who  was  good  for  any  thing ;  and  he  appeared  not  to 
want  business. 

Mr.  Denham  took  a  warehouse  in  Wrater-street, 
where  we  exhibited  our  commodities.  I  applied  my 
self  closely,  studied  accounts,  and  became  in  a  short 
time  very  expert  in  trade.  We  lodged  and  eat  toge 
ther.  He  was  sincerely  attached  to  me,  and  acted 
towards  me  as  if  he  had  been  my  father.  On  my 
side,  I  respected  and  loved  him.  My  situation  wa 
happy  ;  but  it  was  a  happiness  of  no  long  duration 

Early  in  February,  1727,  when  I  entered  into  my 
twenty-second  year,  we  were  both  taken  ill.  I  was 
attacked  with  a  pleurisy,  which  had  nearly  carried 
rne  off;  I  suffered  terribly,  and  considered  it  as  all 
over  with  me,  I  felt  indeed  a  sort  of  disappointment 
when  1  found  myself  likely  to  recover,  ana  regretted 
that  1  had  still  to  experience,  sooner  or  later,  the 
disagreeable  scene  ugain. 


64  Ltt'E  OF 

I  have  forgotten  what  was  Mr.  Denham's  disorder  ; 
but  it  was  a  tedious  one,  and  lie  at  last  sunk  under  it. 
He  left  me  a  small  legacy  in  his  will,  as  a  testimony 
of  his  friendship ;  and  I  was  once  more  abandoned 
to  myself  in  the  wide  world,  the  warehouse  being 
confided  to  the  care  of  the  testamentary  executor, 
who  dismissed. me. 

My  brother-in-law,  Holmes,  who  happened  to  bo 
at  Philadelphia,  advised  me  to  return  to  my  former 
profession  ;  and  Keimer  offered  me  a  very  considcra 
ble  salary  if  I  would  underiake  the  management  of 
his  printing-office,  that  he  might  devote  himself  en 
tirely  to  the  superintendence  of  his  shop.  His  wife 
and  relations  in  I  ondor  had  giv.en  me  a  bad  charac 
ter  of  him ;  and  I  was  loth,  for  the  present,  to  have 
any  cqncern  with  him.  I  endeavoured  to  get  employ 
ment  as  a  clerk  to  a  merchant ;  but  not  readily  find 
ing  a  situation,  I  was  induced  to  accept  Keimer'* 
proposal. 

The  following  were  the  persons  I  found  in  his  print 
ing-house. 

Hugh  Meredith,  a  Pennsylvanian,  about  thirty-five 
years  of  age.  He  had  bren  brought  up  to  husbandry, 
was  honest,  sensible,  had  some  experience,  and  was 
fond  of  reading;  but  too  much  addicted  to  drinking. 

Stephen  Potts,  a  young  rustic,  just  broke  from 
school,  and  of  rustic  education,  with  endowments 
rather  above  the  common  order,  and  a  competent  por 
tion  of  understanding  and  gayety;  but  a  little  idle. 
Keimer  had  engaged  these  two  at  very  low  wages, 
which  he  had  promised  to  raise  ever}'  three  months  a 
shilling  a  week,  provided  their  improvement  in  the 
typographic  art  should  merit  it.  This  future  increase 
ofwages  was  the  bait  he  had  irade  use  of  to  ensnaro 
them.  Meredith  was  to  work  at  the  press,  and  Potti 
to  bind  books,  which  h7;  ,iad  engaged  to  teach  them, 
though  he  understood  neither  himself. 

John  Savage,  an  Irishman,  who  had  been  brought 
up  to  no  trade,  and  whose  service,  for  a  period  of 
four  years,  Keimer  had  purchased  of  the  captain  of 
a  ship.  He  was  also  to  ^e  a  pressman. 

George  Webb,  an  Oxford  scholar,  whose  time  he 
»iad  in  like  manner  bought  for  four  years,  intending 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  65 

him  for  a  compositor.  I  shall  speak  more  of  nim  pre 
sently. 

Lastly,  David  Harry,  a  country  lad,  who  was  ap 
prenticed  to  nim. 

I  soon  perceived  that  Keimer's  intention,  in  engag 
ing  me  at  a  price  so  much  above  what  he  was  accus 
tomed  to  give,  was,  that  I  might  form  all  these  raw 
journeymen  and  apprentices,  wlio  scarcely  cost  him 
any  tiling,  and  who,  being  indentured,  would,  as  soon 
as  they  should  be  sufficiently  instructed,  enable  hin 
to  do  without  me.  1  nevertheless  adhered  to  my 
agreement.  I  put  the  office  in  order,  which  was  in 
the  utmost  confusion,  and  brought  his  people,  by  de 
grees,  to  pay  attention  to  their  work,  and  to  execute 
it  iu  a  more  masterly  style. 

Jt  was  singular  to  see  an  Oxford  scholar  in  the  con 
dition  of  a  purchased  servant.  He  was  not  mr.re  than 
eighteen  years  of  age  ;  and  the  following  are  the  par 
ticulars  he  gave  me  of  himself.  Born  at  Gloucester, 
he.  had  been  educated  at  a  grammar-school,  and  had 
distinguished  himself  among  the  scholars,  by  his  su 
perior  style  of  actii>g,  when  they  represented  drama 
tic  performances.  He  was  member  of  a  literary  club 
in  the  town  ;  and  some  pieces  of  his  composition,  in 
prose  as  well  as  in  verse,  had  been  inserted  in  the 
Gloucester  papers.  From  hence  he  was  sent  to  Ox 
ford,  where  he  remained  about  a  year,  but  he  was 
not  contented,  and  wished  above  all  things  to  see 
London,  and  become  an  actor.  At  length,  having 
received  fifteen  guineas  to  pay  his  quarter's  board, 
he  decamped  with  the  money  "from  Oxford,  hid  hia 
go\vn  in  a  hedge,  and  travelled  to  London.  There, 
having  no  friend  to  direct  him,  he  fell  into  bad  com 
pany,  soon  squandered  'his  fifteen  guineas,  could  find 
no  way  of  being  introduced  to  the  actors,  became 
contemptible,  pawned  his  clothes,  and  was  in  want 
of  bread.  As  he  was  walking  along  the  streets,  almost 
famished  with  hunger,  and  not  knowing  what  to  do,  a 
recruiting  bill  was  put  into  his  hand,  which  offered 
an  immediate  treat  and  bounty-money  to  whoerer 
was  disposed  to  serve  in  America.  He  instantly  re 
paired  to  the  house  of  rendezvous,  enlisted  himself, 
was  put  on  board  a  shun  and  conveyed  to  America, 


66  LIFE  OF 

without  ever  writing  a  line  to  inform  bis  parents  what 
was  become  of  him.  His  mental  vivacity,  and  good 
natural  disposition,  made  him  an  excellent  compa 
nion  ;  but  lie  was  indolent,  thoughtless,  and  to  the 
last  degree  imprudent 

John,  the  Irishman,  soon  ran  away.  I  began  to 
live  very  agreeably  with  the  rest.  They  respected 
me,  and  the  more  so  as  they  found  Keimer  incapable 
f  instructing  them,  and  as  they  learned  something 
roin  me^ every  day,  We  never  worked  on  a  Satur 
day,  it  b*eing  Keimer's  sabbath ;  so  that  I  had  two 
days  a-week  for  reading. 

I  increased  my  acquaintance  with  persons  of  know- 
ledge  and  information  in  the  town.  Keimer  himsell 
treated  ire  with  great  civility  and  apparent  esteem ; 
and  I  had  nothing  to  give  me  uneasiness,  but  my  debt 
to  Vernon,  which  I  was  unable  to  pay,  rr.y  savings  as 
yet  being  very  little.  He  had  the  goodness,  however, 
not  to  ask  me  for  the  money. 

Our  press  was  frequently  in  want  of  the  necessary 
quantity  of  letter;  and  thine  was  no  such  trade  as 
that  of  letter-founder  in  America.  I  had  seen  the 
practice  of  this  art  at  the  house  of  James,  in  London; 
but  had,  at  the  time,  paid  it  very  little  attention.  J 
however  contrived  to  fabricate  a  mould.  I  made  usf 
of  such  letters  as  we  had  for  punches,  founded  new 
letters  of  lead  in  matrices  of  clay,  and  thus  supplied, 
in  a  tolerable  manner,  the  wants  that  were  most 
presLing. 

I  also,  upon  occasion,  engraved  various  ornaments, 
made  ink,  gave  an  eye  to  the  shon  ;  in  short,  1  was, 
in  every  respect,  the  'factotum.  But  useful  as  1  made 
myself,  I  perceived  that  n\y  serv/ces  became  every 
lay  of  less  importance,  in  proportion  as  the  other 
rien  improved;  and  when  Keimer  paid  me  my  second 
quarterns  wagfis,  he  gave  me  to  understand  that  they 
v/ere  too  heavy,  and  that  he  thought  1  ought  to  make 
an  abatement.  He  became  by  degrees  less  civil,  and 
assumed  more  the  tone  of  mabter.  He  frequently 
found  fault,  was  difficult  to  please,  and  seemed  al 
ways  on  the  point  of  coming  to  an  open  quarrel  with 
me. 

1  continued,  however,  to  bear  it  patiently,  conceiv- 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  67 

ing  that  his  ill-humour  was  partly  occasioned  by  the 
derangement  and  embarrassment  of  his  affairs.  At 
last  a  slight  incident  broke  our  connexion.  Hearing 
a  noise  in  the  neighbourhood,  I  put  my  head  out  at 
the  window  to  sec  what  was  the  matter.  Keimer 
being  in  the  street,  observed  me,  and,  in  a  loud  and 
angry  tone,  told  me  to  mind  my  work ;  adding  some 
reproachful  words,  which  piqued  me  the  more,  as  they 
xvere  uttered  in  the  street ;  and  the  neighbours,  whom 
the  same  noise  had  attracted  to  the  windows,  wero 
witnesses  of  the,rnanner'in  which  I  was  treated.  He 
immediately  came  up  to  the  printing-room,  and  con 
tinued  to  exclaim  against  me.  The  quarrel  became 
warm  on  both  sides,  and  hs  gave  me  notice  to  quit 
him  at  the  expiration  of  three  months,  as  had  been 
agreed  upon  between-  us ;  regretting  that  he  was 
obliged  to  give  me  so  long  a  term.  I  loid  him  that 
his  regret  was  superfluous,  as  I  was  ready  to  quit  him 
instantly ;  and  1  took  my  hat  and  came  out  of  the 
house,  begging  Meredith  to  take  care  of  some  things 
ivhicn  1  left,  and  bring  them  to  my  lodgings. 

Meredith  came  to  me  in  the  evening.  We  talked 
for  some  time  upon  the  quarrel  that  had  taken  place. 
He  had  conceived  q  great  veneration  for  me,  and  was 
sorry  I  should  quit  ihe  house  while  he  remained  in  it. 
He  dissuaded  me  from  returning  to  my  native  coun 
try,  as  1  began  to  think  of  doing.  He  reminded  me 
that  Keimer  owed  me  more  than  he  possessed :  that 
his  creditors  began  to  be  alarmed  ;  that  lie  kept  his 
shop  in  a  wretched  state,  often  selling  things  at  prime 
cost,  for  the  sake  of  ready  money,  and  continually 
giving  credit  without  keeping  any  accounts  ;  that  of 
consequence,  he  must  very  soon  fail,  which  would  oc 
casion  a  vacancy  from  which  1  might  derive  advan 
tage.  I  objected  my  want  of  money.  Upon  which 
he  informed  me  that  his  father  had  a  very  high  opin 
ion  cf  me,  and,  from  a  conversation  that  had  passed 
between  them,  he  was  sure  that  he  would  advance 
whatever  might  be  necessary  to  establish  us,  if  I  was 
willing  to  enter  i,,#  ^rtnership  with  him.  "  My 
lime  with  Keimer,"  rttfcred  he,  "  will  be  at  an  end 
next  spring.  In  the  mean  time  we  may  send  to  Lon 
don  for  our  press  am1  ty^es.  I  know  that  I  am  no 


68  LIFE  OF 

workman ;  but  if  you  agree  to  the  proposal,  your 
skill  in  the  business  will  be  balanced  by  the  capital  1 
shall  furnish,  and  we  will  share  the  profits  equally." 
His  proposal  was  seasonable,  and  I  fell  in  with  it. 
His  lather,  who  was  then  in  the  town,  approved  of 
it.  He  knew  that  I  had  some  ascendancy  ovsr  his 
son,  as  I  had  been  able  to  prevail  on  him  to  abstain 
a  long  time  from  drinking  brandy :  and  he  hoped  that, 
when  more  closely  connected  with  "him,  I  should  cure 
him  entirely  of  this  unfortunate  habk. 

I  gave  the  father  a  list  of  what  it  would  be  necessa 
ry  to  import  from  London.  He  took  it  to  a  merchant, 
and  the  order  was  given.  We  agreed  to  keep  the  se 
cret  till  tiie  ariival  of  the  materials,  and  I  was  in 
the  mean  time  to  procure  work,  if  possible,  in  another 
printing-hcuse ;  but  there  was  no  piace  vacant,  an'l  I 
remained  idle.  After  some  days,  Keimer  having  the 
expectation  of  being  employed  to  print  some  New- 
Jersey  money  bills,  that  would  require  types  and  en 
gravings  which  I  only  could  furnish,  and  fearful  that 
Bradford,  by  engaging  me,  might  deprive  him  cf  this 
undertaking,  sent  me  a  very  civil  message,  telling  me 
that  old  friends  ought  not  to  be  disunited  on  account 
of  a  few  words,  which  were  the  effect  only  of  a  mo 
mentary  passion,  and  inviting  me  to  return  to  him. 
Meredith  persuaded  me  to  comply  with  the  invitation, 
particularly  ar  it  would  afford  him  more  opportunities 
of  improving  himself  in  the  business  by  means  of  my 
instructions.  I  did  so ;  and  we  lived  upon  better  terms 
than  before  our  separation. 

He  obtained  the  New-Jersey  business ;  and,  in  or 
der  to  execute  it,  I  constructed  a  copper-plate ^printing- 
press,  the  first  that  had  been  seen  in  the  country.  1 
engraved  various  ornaments  and  vignettes  for  the  bills; 
and  we  repaired  to  Burlington  together,  where  I  exe 
cuted  the  whole  to  general  satisfaction :  and  he  receiv 
ed  a  sum  of  money  for  this  work,  which  enabled  him 
to  keep  his  head  above  water  for  a  considerable  time 
longer 

At  Burlington  I  formed  an  acquaintance  with  the 
principal  personages  of  the  province ;  many  of  whom 
were  commissioned  by  the  Assembly  to  superintend 
the  press,  and  to  see  that  no  more  bills  were  prhioid 


DR.  FRANkLLV.  69 

dian  the  law  had  prescribed.  Accordingly  they  were 
constantly  with  us,  each  in  his  turn ;  and  he  that  came, 
commonly  brought  with  him  a  friend  or  two  to  bear 
him  company.  My  mind  was  more  cultivated  by 
reading  than  Keimer's;  and  it  was  for  this  reason, 
probably,  that  they  set  more  value  on  my  conversation. 
They  took  me  to  their  houses,  introduced  me  to  their 
friends,  and  treated  me  with  the  greatest  civility;  while 
Keimer,  though  master,  saw  himself  a  little  neglected 
He  was,  in  fact,  a  strange  animal,  ignorant  of  the  com 
mon  modes  of  life,  apt  to  oppose  with  ludeness  gen 
erally  received  opinions,  an  enthusiast  in  certain  points 
of  religion,  disgustingly  unclean  in  his  person,  and  a 
little  knavish  withal. 

We  remained  there  nearly  three  months ;  and  at 
the  expiration  of  this  period  I  could  include  in  the 
list  of  my  friends,  Judge  Allen,  Samuel  Bustil,  secre 
tary  of  the  province,  Isaac  Pearson,  Joseph  Cooper, 
several  of  the  Smiths,  all  members  of  the  Assembly, 
and  Isaac  Decon,  inspector-general.  The  last  was  a 
shrewd,  and  subtle  old  man.  He  told  me,  that  when 
a  boy,  his  first  employment  had  been  that  of  carrying 
clay  to  brick-makers ;  that  he  did  not  learn  to  write 
lift  he  was  somewnat  advanced  in  life  ;  that  he  was 
afterwards  employed  as  an  underling  to  a  surveyor, 
who  taught  him  this  trade, -?nd  that  by  industry  he 
had  at  last  acquired  a  competent  fortune.  "  I  foresee,'* 
said  he  one  day  to  me  "  that  you  will  soon  supplant 
this  man  (speaking  of  Keimer,)  and  get  a  fortune  in 
the  business  at  Philadelphia."  He  was  totally  igno 
rant  at  the  time,  of  my  intention  of  establishing  my 
self  there,  or  any  where  else.  These  friends  were 
very  serviceable  to  me  in  the  end,  as  I  was  also,  upon 
occasion,  to  some  of  them ;  and  they  have  continued 
ever  since  their  esteem  for  me. 

Before  I  relate  the  particulars  of  my  entrance  into 
business,  it  may  be  proper  to  inform  you  what  was  at 
that  time  the  state  of  my  mind  as  to  moral  principles, 
that  you  may  see  the  degree  of  influence  they  had  upon 
the  subsequent  events  of  my  life. 

My  parents  had  given  me  betimes  religious  impres 
sions,  and  I  received  from  my  infancy  a  pious  edu 
cation  in  the  principles  of  Calvanism.  But  scarcely 


JO  LIFE  OF 

was  I  arrived  at  fifteen  years  of  age,  when,  after  ha 7 
ing  doubted  m  turn  of  different  t&nets,  according  as  t 
found  them  combated  in  the  different  books  that  1 
read,  I  began  to  doubt  of  revelation  itself.  Some  vo 
lumes  against  deism  fell  into  my  hapds.  They  were 
said  to  be  the  substance  of  sermons  preached  at 
Boyle's  Lecture.  Jt  happened  that  they  produced  on 
me  an  effect  precisely  the  reverse  of  what  was  in 
tended  by  the  writers :  for  the  arguments  of  the  deists, 
which  were  cited  in  order  to  be  refuted,  appeared  to 
me  much  more  forcible  than  the  refutation  itself.  In 
a  word,  I  soon  became  a  perfect  deist.  My  argu-  , 
ments  perverted  some  other  young  persons,  particu-  v 
larly  Collins  and  Ralph.  But  in  the  sequel,  when  I 
recollected  that  they  had  both  USCG.  me  extremely  ill, 
without  the  smallest  remorse  ;  when  I  considered  the 
behaviour  of  Keith,  another  free-thinker,  and  my  own 
conduct  towards  Vernon  and  Miss  Read,  which,  at 
times,  gave  me  great  uneasiness,  I  was  led  to  suspect 
that  this  doctrine,  though  it  might  be  true,  was  not 
very  useful.  I  bngan  to  entertain  a  less  favourable 
opinion  of  my  London  pamphlet,  to  which  J  jiad  pre 
fixed,  as  a  mottn,  the  ibllowing  lines  of  Dryden : 

Whatever  is  is  right ;  though  purblind  man 
Sees  but  part  of  the  chain,  the  nearest  link, 
His  eyes  not  carrying;  to  the  equal  beam 
That  poises  ail  above. 

And  of  which  the  object  v/as  to  prove,  from  the  attri" 
butes  of  God,  his  goodness,  wisdom  and  power,  that 
there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  evil  in  the  world  ;  thar 
vice  and  virtue  did  not  in  reality  exist,  and  wen 
nothing  more  than  vain  distinctions.  I  no  longer  re 
garded  it  as  so  blameless  a  work  as  I  had  former!) 
imagined  ;  and  I  suspected  that  some  error  must  have 
imperceptibly  glided  into  my  argument,  by  which  all 
the  inferences  1  had  drawn  from  it  had  beon  affected, 
as  frequently  happens  in  metaphysical  reasonings.  In 
a  word,  I  was  at  last  convinced  that  truth,  probity, 
and  sincerity,  in  transactions  between  man  and  man, 
were  of  the  utmost  importance  to  the  happiness  of 
jfe ;  and  I  resolved  from  that  moment,  and  wrote  the 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  f  1 

resolution  in  my  Journal,  to  practise  them  as  long  at 
J  lived. 

Revelation,  indeed,  as  such,  had  no  influence  on 
my  mind;  but  I  was  of  opinion  that,  though  certain 
actions  could  not  be  bad  merely  because  revelation 
had  prohibited  them,  or  good  because  it  enjoined 
them,  yet  it  was  probable  that  those  actions  were  pro 
hibited  because  they  were  bad  for  us,  or  enjoined 
because  advantageous  in  their  nature,  all  things  con 
sidered.  This  persuasion,  Divine  Providence,  or  sonia 
guardian  angel.,  and  perhaps  a  concurrence  of  favour 
able  circumstances  co-operating,  preserved  me  from 
all  immorality,  or  gross  and  voluntary  injustice,  to 
which  my  want  of  religion  was  calculated  to  expose 
me,  in  the  dangerous  period  of  youth,  and  in  the 
hazardous  situations  in  which  I  sometimes  found  my 
self,  among  strangers,  and  at  a  distance  from  the  eyo 
and  admonitions  of  my  father.  I  may  say  voluntary, 
because  the  errors  into  which  I  had  fallen,  had  been, 
in  a  manner,  the  forced  result  either  of  my  own  inex- 

nrience,  or  the  dishonesty  of  others.     Thus,  before 
entered  on  my  own  new  career,  I  had  imbibe*]  solid 
principles,  and  a  character  of  probity.    I  knew  their 
value ;  and  I  made  a  solemn  engagement  with  my 
self  never  to  depart  from  them. 

I  had  not  long  returned  from  Burlington  before  our 
printing  materials  arrived  from  London.  I  settled 
my  accounts  with  Keimer,  and  quitted  him,  with  his 
own  consent,  before  he  had  any  knowledge  of  our 
plan.  We  found  a  house  to  let  near  the  market.  We 
look  it ;  and,  to  render  the  rent  less  bu:  Jensome  (it 
was  then  twenty-four  pounds  a  year,  but.  I  have  since 
known  it  let  for  seventy),  we  admitted  Thomas  God-^ 
frey,  a  glazier,  with  his  family,  who  eased  us  of  a 
considerable  part  of  it;  and  with  him  we  agreed  to 
board. 

We  had  no  sooner  unpacked  our  letters,  and  put 
our  press  in  order,  than  a  person  of  my  acquaintance, 
George  House,  brought  us  a  countryman,  whom  he 
had  met  in  the  streets  inquiring  for  a  printer.  OIIT 
money  was  almost  exhausted  by  the  number  of  things 
we  had  been  obliged  to  procure.  The  five  shillings 
we  received  from  tm's  countryman,  the  first  Quit  of 


72  LIFE  OF 

our  earnings,  coming  BO  seasonably,  gave  me  more 
pleasure  than  any  sum  I  have  since  gained ;  and  the 
recollection  of  the  gratitude  I  felt  on  this  occasion  to 
George  House,  has  rendered  me  often  more  disposed, 
than  perhaps  I  should  otherwise  have  been,  to  encour 
age  3roung  beginners  in  trade. 

There  are  iu  every  country  morose  beings,  who  are 
always  prognosticating  ruin.  There  was  one  of  this 
stamp  at  Philadelphia.  He  was  a  man  of  fortune, 
declined  in  years,  had  an  air  of  wisdom,  and  a  very 
grave  manner  of  speaking.  His  name  was  Samue* 
Mickle.  I  knew  him  not ;  but  he  stopped  one  day  at 
my  door,  and  asked  me  if  I  was  the  young  man  who 
had  lately  opened  a  new  printing-house.  Upon  my 
answering  in  the  affirmative,  he  said  that  he  was  very 
sorry  for  me,  as  it  was  an  expensive  undertaking,  and 
the  money  that  had  been  laid  out  upon  it  would  be 
lost,  Philadelphia  being  a  place  falling  into  decay  ;  its 
inhabitants  having  all,  or  nearly  all  of  them,  been 
obliged  to  call  together  their  creditors.  That  he  knew, 
from  undoubted  fact,  the  circumstances  which  might 
lead  us  to  suppose  the  contrary,  such  as  new  build 
ings,  and  the  advanced  price  of  rent,  to  be  deceitful 
appearances,  which,  in  reality,  contributed  to  hasten 
the  general  ruin  ;  and  he  gave  me  so  long  a  detail  of 
misfortunes,  actually  existing,  or  which  were  soon  to 
lake  place,  that  he  left  me  almost  in  a  state  of  despair. 
Had  I  known  this  man  before  I  entered  into  trade,  J 
should  doubtless  never  have  ventured.  He  continued 
however,  to  live  in  this  place  of  decay,  and  to  declaim 
in  the-  same  style,  refusing  for  many  years  to  buy  a 
house,  be^iuse  all  was  going  to  wreck ;  and,  in  the 
end,  I  hau  the  satisfaction  to  see  him  pay  five  times 
os  much  for  one,  as  it  would  have  cost  him,  had  ho 
purchased  it  when  he  first  began  his  lamentations. 

I  ought  to  have  related,  that,  during  the  autumn  of 
the  preceding  year,  1  had  united  the  majority  of  well- 
informed  persons  of  my  acquaintance,  into  a  club, 
which  we  called  by  the  name  of  the  Junto,  and  the 
object  of  which  was  to  improve  our  understandings. 
We  met  every  Friday  evening.  The  regulations  J 
drew  up,  obliged  eve ry  member  to  propose,  in  hi> 
turn,  one  or  more  questions  upon  some  point  of  mo- 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  73 

rality,  politics,  or  philosophy,  which  were  to  be  riis- 
cussed  by  the  society;  and  to  read,  once  in  three 
months,  an  essay  of  his  own  composition,  on  what 
ever  subject  he  pleased.  Our  debates  were  under  the 
direction  of  a  president,  and  were  to  be  dictated  only 
by  a  sincere  desire  of  truth ;  the  pleasure  of  disput 
ing,  and  the  vanity  of  triumph,  having  no  share  in 
the  business ;  and  in  order  to  prevent  undue  warmth 
every  expression  which  implied  obstinate  adherence 
o  an  opinion,  and  all  direct  contradiction,  were  pro 
hibited,  under  small  pecuniary  penalties. 

The  first  members  of  our  club  were  Joseph  Breint- 
nal,  whose  occupation  was  that  of  a  scrivener.  He 
was  a  middle-aged  ?>ian,  of  a  good  natural  disposi 
tion,  strongly  auacneo  to  his  friends,  a  great  lover  of 
poetry,  reading  every  thing  that  came  in  his  way,  and 
writing  tolerably  well,  ingenious  in  many  little  trifles, 
and  of  an  agreeable  conversation. 

Thomas  Godfrey,  a  skilful,  though  self-taught  ma 
thematician,  and  who  was  afterwards  the  inventor  of 
what  now  goes  by  the  name  of  Hartley's  dial ;  but  lie 
nad  little  knowledge  out  of  his  own  line,  and  was  ir- 
supportable  in  company,  always  requiring,  like  the 
majority  of  mathematicians  that  have  fallen  in  my 
way,  an  unusual  precision  in  every  thing  that  is  said, 
continually  contradicting,  or  making  trifling  distinc 
tions  ;  a  sure  way  of  defeating  all  the  ends  of  con 
versation.  He  very  soon  left  us. 

Nicholas  Scull,  a  surveyor,  and  who  became,  after 
wards,  surveyor-general.  He  was  fond  of  books,  and 
wrote  verses. 

William  Parsons,  brought  up  to  the  trade  of  a  shoe 
maker,  but  who,  having  a  t;\ste  for  reading,  had  ac 
quired  a  profound  knowledge  of  mathematics.  Ha 
first  studied  them  with  a  view  to  astrology,  and  wai 
afterwards  the  first  to  laugh  at  his  folly.  He  also  be 
came  surveyor-general. 

William  Mawgride,  a  joiner,  and  very  excellent 
Mechanic;  and  in  other  respects  a  man  of  solid  im 
•lerstanding. 

Hu^h  Meredith,  Stephen  Potts,  and  George  Webb, 
»f  whom  I  have  already  spoken. 

Robert  Grace,  a  yo;mg  man  of  fortune;  genero'is, 


74  LIFE  OF 

nnimated,  and  witty;  fond  of  epigrams,  but  more 
fond  of  his  friends. 

And,  lastly,  William  Coleman,  at  that  time  a  mer 
chant's  clerk,  and  nearly  of  my  own  age.  He  had  a 
cooler  and  clearer  head,  a  better  heart,  and  more 
scrupulous  morals,  than  almost  any  other  person  1 
have  ever  met  with.  He  became  a  very  respectable 
merchant,  and  one  of  our  provincial  judges.  Oui 
friendship  subsisted,  without  interruption,  for  more 

han  forty  years,  till  the  period  of  his  death ;  and  the 

lub  continued  to  exist  almost  as  long. 

This  was  the  best  school  for  politics  and  philosophy 
that  then  existed  in  the  province ;  for  our  questions, 
which  were  read  once  a  week  'previous  to  their  dis 
cussion,  induced  us  to  peruse  attentively,  such  books 
as  were  written  upon  the  subjects  proposed,  that  we 
might  be  able  to  speak  upon  them  more  pertinently. 
We  thus  acquired  the  habit  cf  conversing  more  agree 
ably;  every  object  being  discussed  conformably  to  our 
regulations,  and  in  a  manner  to  prevent  mutual  dis 
gust.  To  this  circumstance  may  be  attriouted  the 
long  duration  of  the  club;  which  I  shall  have  frequent 
occasion  to  mention  as  I  proceed. 

I  have  introduced  it  here,  as  being  one  of  the  means 
on  which  I  had  to  count  for  success  in  my  business, 
every  member  exerting  himself  to  procure  work  for 
us.  Breintnal,  among  others,  obtained  for  us,  on  the 
part  of  the  quafcers,  the  printing  of  forty  sheets  of 
their  history;  of  which  the  rest  was  to  be  done  by 
Keimer.  Our  execution  of  this  work  was,  by  no 
means,  masterly;  as  the  price  was  very  low.  It  was 
in  folio,  upon  pro  patria  paper,  and  in  the  pica  letter, 
with  heavy  notes,  in  the  smallest  type.  1  composed 
sheet  a-day,  and  Meredith  put  it  to  the  press.  It 

vas  frequently  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  sometimes 

ater,  Defore  I  had  finished  my  distribution  for  the 
next  day's  task;  for  the  little  things  which  our  friends 
occasionally  sent  us,  kept  us  back  in  this  work :  but 
I  was  so  determined  to  compose  a  sheet  a-day,  that 
one  evening,  when  my  form  was  imposed,  and  my 
day's  work,  as  I  thought,  at  an  end,  an  accident  hav 
ing  broken  this  foam,  and  deranged  two  complete  folio 
pages,  I  immediately  distributed,  and  composed  them 
anew  before  I  went  to  bed. 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  73 

This  unwearied  industry,  which  was  perceived  by 
our  neighbours,  began  to  acquire  us  reputation  and 
credit.  I  learned,  among  other  things,  that  our  new 
printing-house,  being  tho  subject  of  conversation  at  a 
club  of  merchants,  who  met  every  evening,  it  way 
the  general  opinion  that  it  would  fail;  there  being 
already  two  printing-houses  in  the  town,  Keimer's 
and  Bradford's.  But  Dr.  Bare!,  whom  you  and  I  had 
ccasion  to  see,  many  years  after,  at  his  native  town 
f  St.  Andrew's,  in  Scotland,  was  of  a  different  optn- 
on.  "  Tlt«  industry  of  this  Franklin  (said  he)  if 
superior  to  any  tiling  of  the  kind  I  have  ever  \vit- 
nessed.  I  t--»e  him  still  at  work  when  I  return  from 
the  club  at  night,  and  he  is  at  it  again  in  the  .noniing 
before  his  neighbours  are, out  of  bed."  This  account 
struck  the  rest  of  the  assembly,  and,  shortly  after, 
one  of  its  members  came  to  our  house,  and  offered  to 
supply  us  with  articles  of  stationary ;  but  \ve  wished 
not,  as  yet,  to  embarrass  oursel/es  with  keeping  a 
shop.  It  is  not  for  the  sake  of  applause  that  I  en  er 
so  freely  into  the  particulars  uf  my  industry,  but  thai 
such  of  my  descendants  as  shall  rasd  these  memoes 
may  know  the  use  "of  this  virtue,  by  seeing,  in  the  re 
cital  of  my  life,  the  effects  it  operated  in  rny  favour. 
George  Webb,  liaving  found  a  friend  who  lent  him 
the  necessary  sum  to  buy  out  his  time  of  Keimer, 
came  one  day  to  offer  himself  to  us  as  a  journeyman. 
We  coiT.d  not  employ  him  immediately  ;  but  1  1001- 
ishly  told  him,  under  the  rose,  that  I  intended  shortly 
to  publish  a  new  periodical  paper,  and  that  we  should 
then  have  work  for  him.  My  hopes  of  success,  which 
I  imparted  to  him,  were  founded  on  the  circumstance, 
that  the  only  pai>cr  we  had  in  Philadelphia  at  that 
time,  and  which  Kr.vttbrd  printed,  was  a  paltry  tiling, 
miserably  conducted,  in  no  respect  amusing,  and 
which  yet  was  profitable.  I  consequently  supposed 
that  a  good  work  of  this  kind  could  not  fail  of  suc 
cess.  Webb  betrayed  my  secret  to  Reimer,  who,  to 
prevent  me,  immediately  published  the  prospectus  01 
a  pap-r  that  he  intended  to  instiiute  himself,  and  in 
which  Webb  was  to  be  engaged. 

I  was  exasperated  at  this  proceeding,  and,  witn  a 
Y>W  to  counteract  them         boiu   able  at  present  to 


76  LIFE  OF 

institute  my  own  paps*-,  I  wrote  some  humorous  pieces 
in  Bradford's,  under  the  title  of  the  Busy  Body  ,-*  and 
which  was  continued  for  several  mouths  by  Breintnal. 
I  herehy  fixed  the  attention  of  the  public  upon  Brad 
ford's  paper;  and  the  prospectus  of  Keimer,  which 
we  turneu  kito  ridicule,  was  treated  with  contempt. 
He  began,  notwithstanding,  his  paper;  and,  after 
continuing  it  for  nine  months,  having,  at  most,  not 
more  than  ninety  subscribers,  he  offered  it  to  me  for 
a  mere  trifle.  I  had  for  some  time  been  ready  for 
such  an  engagement ;  I  therefore  instantly  took  it 
upon  myself,  and  in  a  few  years  it  proved  extremely 
profitable  to  me. 

I  perceive  that  I  am  apt  to  speak  in  the  first  per 
son,  though  our  partnership  still  continued.  It  is, 
perhaps,  because,  in  fact,  the  whole  business  devolved 
upon  me.  Meredith  was  no  compositor,  and  brut  an 
indifferent  pressman ;  and  it  was  rarely  that  he  ab 
stained  from  hard  drinking.  My  friends  were  sorry 
to  see  me  connected  with  him  ;  but  I  contrived  to  de 
rive  from  it  the  utmost  advantage  the  case  admitted. 

Our  first  number  produced  no  other  effect  than  any 
other  paper  which  had  appeared  in  the  province,  ai 
to  type  and  printing ;  but  some  remarks,  in  my  pecu 
liar  style  ot  writing,  upon  the  dispute  which  then 
prevailed  between  Governor  Burnet  and  the  Massa- 
;huseUs  Assembly,  stvuck  some  persons  AS  above  me- 
di,x  rity,  caused  the  paper  and  its  editors  to  be  talked 
of,  and,  in  a  few  weeks,  induced  them  to  become  our 
subscribers.  Many  others  followed  their  example ; 
and  our  subscription  continued  to  increase.  This 
was  one  of  the 'first  good  effects  of  the  pains  I  had 
aken  to  learn  t»>  put  my  ideas  o.  \  paper.  I  derived 
his  farther  advantage  from  it,  thai  ;he  leading  men 
f  the  place,  seeing  in  the  author  of  this  publicitioa 

man  so  wrll  able  to  use  his  pen,  thought  it  jrifht  to 
patronise  and  encourage  me. 

The  votes,  laws,  and  other  public  pieces,  were 
printed  by  Bradford.  An  address  of  the  House  of 


*  A  manuscript  'note  in  the  hie  ot  iho  American  Mercury, 
,^«»erved  ID  the  Philadelphia  Horary,  snys,  that  Franklin 
wrolt  the  five  first  numbers.  uuJ  part  of  the  eighth, 


DR.  FRANKLLN.  77 

Assembly  to  the  Governor,  had  been  executed  by  him 
in.  a  very  coarse  and  incorrect  manner.  We  reprinted 
it  with  accuracy  and  neatness,  and  sent  a  copy  to 
every  member.  They  perceived  the  difference  ;  and 
it  so  strengthened  the  influence  of  our  friends  in  the 
Assembly,  that  we  were  nominated  its  printer  for  tba 
following  year. 

Among  these  friends.  I  '»ught  not  to  forget  one  mem 
ber  in  particular,  Mr.  Hamilton,  whom  I  have  men 
tioned  in  a  former  part  of  my  narrative,  and  who  wat 
now  returned  from  England.  He  warmly  interested 
himself  for  me  on  this  occasion,  as  he  did  likewise  on 
many  others  afterwards;  having  continued  his  kind 
ness  to  me  till  his  death. 

About  this  period  Mr.  Vernon  reminded  mt  of  the 
debt  I  oved  him,  but  without  pressing  me  for  pay 
ment.  I  wrote  a  hr\ndsome  letter  on  the  occasion, 
begging  h'r.n  to  wait  a  little  longer,  to  which  he  con 
sented  ;  and  as  soon  as  I  was  able,  1  paid  him  prin 
cipal  and  interest,  with  many  expressions  of  gratitude  ; 
so  that  this  error  of  my  life  was,  in  a  manner,  atoned 
for. 

But  another  trouble  now  happened  to  me,  which  1 
had  not  the  smallest  reason  to  expect.  Meredith's 
father,  who,  according  to  our  agreement,  was  to  de 
fray  the  whole  expense  of  our  printing  materials,  had 
only  paid  a  hundred  pounds.  Another  hundred  was 
still  due,  and  the  merchant  being  tired  of  waiting, 
commenced  a  suit  against  us.  We  bailed  the  action, 
but  with  the  melancholy  prospect,  that,  if  the  money 
was  not  forthcoming  at  the  time  fixed,  the  affair  would 
come  to  issue,  jud^ne.nt  be  put  in  execution,  our  de- 
lig!/i*fu]  hopes  be  annihilated,  and  ourselves  entirely 
urn  "*  •  as  the  type  and  press  must  be  sold,  perhapa 
at  half  their  vrJun,  to  pay  the  debt. 

la  this  distress,  two  real  fr'*nds,  whose  generous 
conduct  1  have  never  forgotten,  aiiJ  -«".er  shall  for 
get,  while  I  retain  the  remembrance  01  a..  *'^i»{* 
came  to  me  separately,  without  the  knowledge  ^ 
each  other,  and  without  my  having  applied  to  eithei 
of  them.  Each  r°fe<ed  whatever  money  might  b» 
necessary  to  take  tne  business  into  my  own  hands, 
if  the  thing  was  practicable,  as  they  did  .vot  like  1 


?a  LIFE  OF 

should  continue  in  partnership  with  Meredith,  who, 
they  said,  was  frequently  seen  drunk  in  the  streets, 
and  gambling  at  ale-houses,  which  very  much  in 
jured  our  credit.  These  friends  were  William  Cole- 
man  and  Robert  Grace.  1  told  them,  that  while  there 
remained  any  probability  that  the  Merediths  would 
fulfil  their  part  of  the  compact,  I  could  not  propose 
a  separation,  as  I  conceived  myself  to  be  under  obli 
gations  to  them  for  what  they  had  done  already,  and 
were  still  disposed  to  do,  if  they  had  the  power;  but, 
m  the  end,  should  they  fail  in  their  engagement,  and 
our  partnership  be  dissolved,  1  should  then  think  my 
self  at.  liberty  to  accept  the  kindness  of  my  friends. 

Tilings  lemamed  for  s-o.ne  time  in  this  state.  At 
last,  1  said  or.e  day  to  my  partner,  "  Your  father  is 
perhaps  dissatisfied  with  your  having  a  shave  only  in 
the  business,  and  is  unwilling  to  do  for  two,  what  ha 
would  do  for  you  alone.  Tell  mo  frankly,  if  that  be 
the  case,  and  I  will  resign  the  whole  to  you,  and  do 
for  myself  as  well  as  f  can."  "  No,  (said  he)  my  fa 
ther  lias  really  been  disappointed  in  his  hopes;  he  is 
not  able  to  pay,  and  1  wish  to  put  him  to  no  farther 
inconvenience.  I  see  that  1  am  not  at  all  calculated 
for  a  printer ;  I  wa?  educated  as  a  fanner,  and  it  was 
absurd  in  rne  to  como  here,  at  thirty  years  of  age,  and 
bind  myself  apprentice  to  a  new  trade.  Many  of  my 
countrymen  are  going  to  settle  in  North  Carolina, 
where  the  soil  is  exceedingly  favourable.  I  am  tempt- 
ud  to  go  with  them,  and  to  resume  my  forme/  occu 
pation.  You  will,  do'uotiess,  find  friends  who  will 
assist  you.  If  you  will  take  upon  yourself  the  debts 
of  the  partnership,  return  my  father  the  hundred 
pounds  he  has  advanced,  pay  my  little  personal  debts, 
and  give  me  thirty  pounds  and  a  new  saddle,  I  will 
renounce  the  partnership,  and  consign  over  the  whole 
stock  to  you." 

1  accepted  this  proposal  without  hesitation.  It  v/aa 
committed  to  paper,  dud  signed  and  sealed  without 
uelay.  i  gave  him  what  he  demanded,  and  he  de 
parted  soon  after  for  Carolina,  from  whence  he  sen! 
me,  in  the  following  year,  two  lon<;  letters,  containing 
the  best  accounts  that  had  yet  been  given  of  that 
country,  as  to_  climate,  soil,  a.-$ri<  ulture,  &c.  for  h« 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  79 

was  well  versed  in  these  matters.  1  published  them 
in  my  newspaper,  and  they  were  received  with  great 
satisfaction. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  I  applied  to  my  two  friends, 
and  not  wishing  to  give  a  disobliging  preference  to 
either  of  them,  1  accepted  from  each,  half  what  he 
had  offered  rne,  and  which  it  was  necessary  1  shor./d 
have.  I  paid  the  partnership  debts,  and  continued 
Ihe  business  on  my  own  account;  taking  care  to  inform 
the  public,  by  advertisement,  of  the  partnership  be- 
lig  dissolved.  This  was,  I  think,  in  the  year  1729, 
ir  thereabout. 

Nearly  at  the  same  period,  the  people  demanded  a 
oew  emission  of  paper-money;  the  existing  and  only 
tme  that  had  taken  place  in  the  province,  and  whic'> 
amounted  to  fifteen  thousand  pounds,  being  soon  to 
•xpire.  The  wealthy  inhabitants,  prejudiced  against 
every  sort  of  paper  currency,  from  the  fear  of  its  de 
preciation,  of  which  there  had  been  an  instance  in 
the  province  of  New-England,  to  the  injury  of  its 
holders,  strongly  opposed  this  measure.  We  had  dis 
cussed  tiiis  affair  in  our  Junto,  in  which  I  was  on  the 
side  of  the  new  emission ;  convinced  that  the  first 
small  sum,  fabricated  in  1723,  had  none  much  good 
in  the  province,  b*~  favouring  commerce,  industry,  and 
population,  since  all  the  liouses  were  now  inhabited, 
and  many  others  building; ;  whereas  1  remembered  to 
nave  soen  when  I  first  paraded  the  streets  of  PJijla 
delphia  eatng  my  roll,  the  majority  of  those  in  Wai 
nut-street,  Second -street,  Fourth-street,  as  well  as  a 
great  number  in  Chesnut  and  other  streets,  with  pa 
pers  on  them,  signifying  that  they  were  to  be  let ; 
which  mnrle  me  think,  at  the  time,  that  the  inhabi- 
ant?  of  the  town  were  deserting  it  one  after  another. 

Ou{  debates  made  me  so  fully  master  of  the  subject, 
hat  I  tvrolo  and  published  an  anonymous  pamplet, 
entitled,  "  An  Inquiry  into  the  Nature  and  Necessity 
of  Paper  Currency."  It  was  very  well  received  by 
the  Icwor  and  middling  classes  of' people;  but  it  dis- 
pleasecJ  the  fip;ilent,  as  it  increased  the  clamour  in  fa 
vour  of  tho  IVBW  emission.  Having, however,  no  wri 
ter  among  them  capable  of  answering  it,  their  oppo- 
*ition  became  less  violent;  and  there  being  in  tne 


SO  LIFE  OF 

House  of  Assembly  a  majority  for  the  measure,  it 
passed.  The  friends  I  had  acquired  in  the  House, 
persuaded  thai  I  had  done  the  country  essential  ser 
vice  on  this  occasion,  rewarded  me  by  giving  mo  the 
printing  of  the  bills.  It  was  a  lucrative  employment, 
and  proved  a  very  seasonable  help  to  me ;  another 
advantage  which  I  derived  from  having  habituated 
myself  to  write. 

Time  and  experience  so  fully  demonstrated  tha 
utility  of  paper  currency,  that  it  never  after  expe 
rienced  any  considerable  opposition ;  so  that  it  soon 
amounted  to  55,00(M.  and  in  the  year  1739  to  80,000/. 
It  has  since  risen,  during  the  last  war,  to  350,0001. 
trade,  buildings,  and  population,  having  in  the  inter 
val  continually  increased  :  but  I  am  now  convinced 
that  there  are  limits  beyond  which  paper  money  would 
be  prejudicial. 

1  soon  after  obtained,  by  the  influence  of  my  friend 
Hamilton,  the  printing  of  the  Newcastle  paper  money, 
another  profitable  work,  as  I  then  thought  it,  litilb 
things  appearing  great  to  persons ol  moderate  fortune , 
and  they  were  really  great  to  rne,  as  proving  great  en 
couragements.  He  also  procured  me  the  printing  of 
the  laws  and  votes  of  that  government,  which  I  re 
tained  as  long  as  I  continued  in  trie  business.  • 

I  now  opened  a  small  stationer's  shop.  I  kept 
bonds  and  agreements  of  all  kinds,  drawn  up  in  a 
more  accurate  form  than  had  yet  been  seen  in  that 
part  of  the  world ;  a  work  in  which  1  was  assisted  by 
my  friend  Breintnal.  1  had  also  paper,  parchment, 
pasteboard,  books,  &c.  One  Whiternash,  an  excel 
lent  compositor,  whom  I  had  known  in  London,  came 
to  ofter  himself:  I  engaged  him ;  and  he  continued 
constantly  and  diligently  to  work  with  me.  I  also 
took  an  apprentice,  the  sen  of  Aquila  Rose. 

I  began  to  pay,  by  degrees,  tha  debt  I  had  contract 
ed;  and,  in  order  to  insure  my  credit  and  charactei 
as  a  tradesman,  I  took  care  not  only  to  be  really  in 
dustrious  and  frugal,  but  also  to  avoid  every  appear 
ancc  of  the  contrary,  I  was  plainly  dressed,  and 
never  seen  in  any  pla'*3  of  public  amusement.  I 
never  went  a  fishing  or  hunting.  A  book,  indeed,  en 
ticed  me  sometimes  from  my  work,  but  it  was  seldom, 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  81 

oy  stealth,  and  occasioned  no  scandal ;  and,  to  show 
ihat  I  did  not  think  myself  above  my  profession,  1 
conveyed  home  sometimes  in  a  wheelbarrow,  the  pa 
per  I  had  purchased  at  the  warehouses. 

I  thus  obtained  the  reputation  of  being  an  indus 
trious  young  man,  and  very  punctual  in  his  payment 
The  merchants,  who  imported  articles  of  stations*  Y. 
colicited  my  custom ;  others  offered  to  furnish  me  w?U» 
books,  and  my  little  trade  went  on  prosperously. 

Meanwhile,  the  credit  and  business  of  Keimer  di 
minishing  every  day,  he  was  at  last  forced  to  seil  his 
stock  to  satisfy  his  creditors ;  and  he  betook  himself 
to  Barbndoes,  where  he  lived  for  some  time  in  a  ver} 
impoverished  state.  His  apprentice,  David  Harry, 
whom  1  had  instructed  while  I  worked  with  Keimer, 
having  bough?  his  materials,  succeeded  him  in  the  bu 
siness.  I  was  apprehensive,  at  first,  of  fmd'u.g  m 
Harry  a  powerful  competitor,  as  he  was  ai'ied  to  an 
opulent  and  respectable  family ;  1  therefore  proposed 
a  partnership,  which,  happily  for  me,  he  rejected  with 
disdain.  He  was  extremely  proud,  thought  himself 
a  fine  gentleman,  lived  extravagantly,  and  pursued 
amusements  which  suffered  him  to  be  scarcely  ever  at 
home ;  of  consequence  he  became  in  debt,  neglected 
his  business,  and  business  negbcted  him.  Fh.ding  in 
a  short  time,  nothing  to  do  in  the  cour^ry  he  followed 
Reimer  to  Barbadoes,  carrying  his  printing  materials 
with  him.  There  the  apprentice  employed  his  old 
master  as  a  journeyman.  They  were  continually 
quarrelling ;  and  Harry,  still  getting  in  debt,  was 
obliged,  at  last,  to  sell  his  press  and  types,  and  return 
to  his  old  occupation  of  husbandry  in  Pennsylvania. 
The  person  who  purchased  them,  employed  Keimer 
fo  manage  the  husiness :  but  he  died  a  few  years  after 

I  had  now  at  Philadelphia,  no  competitor  but  Brad 
ford,  who,  being  in  easy  circumstances,  did  not  engage 
in  tlie  printing  of  books,  except  now  and  then  as 
workmen  chanced  to  offer  themselves ;  and  was  not 
anxious  to  extend  his  trade.  He  had,  however,  ono 
advantage  over  me,  as  he  had  tiie  direction  of  tho 
post-office,  and  was,  of  consequence,  supposed  to  have 
better  opportunities  of  obtaining  news.  His  pa-per 
was  also  supposed  to  be  more  advantageous  to  adver 


W  UFE  OF 

tising  customers ;  and,  ir.  consequence  of  that  suppo 
sition,  bis  advertisements  were  mucn  more  numerous 
than  mine:  this  was  a  source  of  great  profit  to  him, 
aiul  disadvantageous  to  me.  It  was  to  no  purpose 
that  I  really  p/ocured  other  papers,  and  distributed 
my  own,  by  mean?  of  the  post ;  and  th3  public  took 
for  granted,  my  inability  in  this  respect;  and  I  was 
indeed,  unable  to  conquer  it  in  any  other  mode  thax 
by  bribing  the  post-hoys,  who  served  me  only  h} 
stealth,  Bradford  heing  so  illiberal  as  to  forbid  them 
This  treatment  of  his  excited  my  resentment ;  and 
my  disgust  was  so  rooted,  that,  when  I  afterwards 
succeeded  him  in  the  post-office,  I  took  care  to  avoid 
copying  his  exavpple. 

I  had  hitherto  continued  to  board  with  Godfrey, 
who,  with  his  wife  and  children,  occupied  part  of  my 
hoase,  and  half  of  the  shop  for  his  business ;  at  which, 
indeed,  he  winked  very  little,  heing  always  absorbed 
by  mathematics.  Mrs.  Godfrey  formed  a  wish  of 
marrying  me  to  the  daughter  of  one  of  her  relations. 
She  contrived  various  opportunities  of  bringing  us  to 
gether,  tiU  she  saw  that  1  was  captivated ;  which  was 
not  difficult ;  the  lady  in  question  possessing  great 
personal  mer't.  The  parents  encouraged  my  ad 
dresses,  by  inviting  mn,  continually  to  supper,  and 
leaving  us  to^et.ter,  till  at  last  it  was  time  to  come  to 
an  explanation.  Mrs.  Godfrey  undertook  to  negotiate 
our  little  treaty.  I  gave  her  to  understand,  that  I  ex 
pected  to  receive  with  the  young  lady,  a  sum  of  mo 
ney  that  would  enable  rnej  at  least,  *to  discharge  the 
remainder  of  the  debt  for  my  punting  materials.  It 
was  then,  I  believe,  not  more  than  a  hundred  pounds. 
She  brought  me  for  answer,  that  they  had  no  such 
sum  at  their  disposal.  J  observed  that  it  might  easily 
be  obtained,  by  a  mortgage  on  their  house.  The  re 
ply  to  this,  was,  after  a  few  days  interval,  that,  they 
did  not  approve  of  the  match ;  that  they  had  con 
sulted  Branibrd,  and  found  that  the  business  of  a 
printer  was  not  lucrative;  that  my  letters  would  soon 
be  worn  out,  and  must  be  supplied  Ly  new  ones :  that 
Keimer  and  Harry  had  failed,  and  that,  probably,  I 
should  do  so  too.  Accordingly  they  forbade  me  the 
house,  and  the  youug  lady  was  confined.  I  know 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  83 

not  if  they  had  really  changed  their  minds,  or  if  it 
was  merely  an  artifice,  supposing  our  afifections  to  be 
too  far  engaged  for  us  to  desist,  and  that  we  should 
contrive  to  marry  secretly,  which  would  leave  them 
at  liberty  to  give  or  not,  as  they  pleased.  But,  sus 
pecting  this  motive,  I  never  went  again  to  their  house. 

Some  time  after,  Mrs.  Godfrey  informed  me  that 
they  were  favourably  disposed  toward  me,  and  wish 
ed  me  to  renew  the  acquaintance ;  but  I  declaied  a 
firm  resolution  never  to  have  any  thing  more  to  do 
frith  the  family.  The  Godfreys  expressed  some  re 
sentment  at  this ;  and  as  we  could  no  longer  agree,  | 
they  changed  their  residence,  leaving  me  in  posses 
sion  of  the  whole  house.  I  then  resolved  to  take  no 
more  lodgers.  This  affair  having  turned  my  thoughts 
to  marriage,  1  looked  around  me,  and  made  overtures 
of  alliance  in  other  quarters ;  but  I  soon  found  that 
the  profession  of  a  printer,  being  generally  looked 
upon  as  a  poor  trade,  I  could  expect  no  money  with 
a  wile,  at  least,  if  1  wished  her  to  possess  any  othei 
charm.  Meanwhile,  that  passion  of  youth,  &o  diffi 
cult  to  govern,  had  often  drawn  me  into  intrigues  with 
despicable  women  who  fell  in  my  way;  which  were 
not  unaccompanied  with  expense  and  inconvenience, 
besides  thi?  perpetual  risk  of  injuring  my  health,  and 
catching  a  disease  which  1  dreaded  above  all  thugs. 
But  1  was  fortunate  enough  to  escape  this  danger. 

Asa  neighbour  and  old  acquaintance,  1  had  kept 
un  a  friendly  intimacy  with  the  family  of  Miss  R^ad. 
Her  parent?  had  retained  an  affection  for  me  front  Jit 
time* ot  my  lodging  in  their  house.  I  was  often  in- 
vited  il.ither;  they  consulted  me  about  their  affairs, 
and  I  had  been  sometimes  serviceable  to  them.  1  was 
touched  with  the  unhappy  situation  of  their  (laugh 
er,  who  was  almost  always  melancholy,  and  continu 
ally  seeking  solitude.  J  regarded  my  forgetfulness  anA 
inconstancy,  during  n\y  abode  in  London,  as  the  prin 
cipal  part  of  her  misfortune,  though  her  mother  had 
the  candour  to  attribute  the  fault  to  herself,  rathei 
than  to  me,  Iwcause,  ufier  having  prevented  our  mar. 
riage  previously  to  my  departure,  sne  had  induced 
bei  to  many  another  in  my  absence. 

Our  mutual  affection  revived;   but  there  existed 
4  * 


84  LIFE  OF 

great  obstacles  to  our  union.  Her  marriage  was  cor. 
sidered,  indeed,  as  not  being  valid,  the  man  having, 
it  was  said,  a  former  wife  still  living  in  England  ;  but 
of  this  it  was  difficult  to  obtain  a  proof  At  so  great  a 
distance ;  and  though  a  report  prevailed  of  his  being 
deadv  yet  we  had  no  certainty  of  it;  and,  supposing 
it  to  be  true,  he  had  left  many  debts,  for  tho  payment 
of  which  his  successor  might  be  sued.  We  ventured, 
nevertheless,  in  spite  of  all  these  difficulties ;  and  I 
married  her  on  the  1st  of  September,  1730.  None  of 
the  inconveniences  we  had  feared,  happened  to  us. 
She  proved  to  me  a  gooJ  and  faithful  companion, 
ftnd  contributed  essentially  to  the  success  of  my  shop. 
We  prospered  together,  and  it  was  our  mutual  study 
to  render  each  other  happy.  Thus  I  corrected,  as 
well  as  I  could,  this  great  error  of  my  youth. 

Our  club  was  not  at  that  time  established  at  a  ta 
vern.  We  held  our  meetings  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
Grace,  who  appropriated  a  room  to  the  purpose. 
Some  member  observed,  one  day,  that  as  our  books 
were  frequently  quoted  in  the  course  of  our  discus 
sions,  it  would  be  convenient  to  have  them  collected 
in  the  room  in  which  we  assembled,  in  order  to  be 
consulted  upon  occasion  ,  and  that,  by  thus  forming  a 
common  library  of  our  individual  collections,  each 
jvould  have  the  advantage  of  using  the  books  of  all 
the  other  members,  which  would  nearly  be  tho  same 
as  if  he  possessed  them  all  himself.  The  idea  was 
approved,  and  we  accordingly  brought  such  books  as 
we  tnought  we  could  spare,  which  were  placed  at  the 
end  of  the  club-room.  They  amounted  not  to  so  ma- 
Ay  as  we  Expected;  and  though  we  made  considera 
ble  use  of  them,  yet  some  inconveniences  resulting, 
from  want  of  care,  it  was  agreed,  after  about  a  year, 
to  discontinue  the  collection ;  and  each  took  away 
.tucn  books  as  belonged  to  him. 

It  was  now  that  I  first  started  the  idea  of  establish 
ing,  by  subscription,  a  public  library.  1  drew  up  tl»e 
proposals,  had  them  engrossed  in  form  by  Brockden, 
Me  attorney,  and  my  project  succeeded,  as  will  be 
.«er.  in  the  sequel.  ********** 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  *fr 

[The  life  of  Dr.  Franklin,  as  written  by  himsolf,  so 
far  as  it  has  yet  been  communicated  to  the  .vorld, 
breaks  off  in  this  place.  We,  understand  that  »t  was 
continued  by  him  somewhat  farther,  and  wp  hopts 
that  the  remainder  will,  at  some  future  period,  be 
communicated  to  the  public.  We  have  no  hesitation 
in  supposing,  that  every  reader  will  find  himself 
greatly  interested  by  the  frank  simplicity,  aud  tha 
philosophical  discernment  by  which  these  pages  ara 
so  eminently  characterized.  We  have  therefore  thouglc 
proper,  in  oider,  as  much  as  possible,  to  relieve  hia 
regret,  to  subjoin  the  following  continuation  by  oni  £. 
of  the  Doctors  intimate  friends.  Jt  is  extracted  from 
an  American  period ica.1  publication,  and  was  written 
by  die  late  Dr.  Stuber,*  of  Philadelphia. 

*  Dr.  Stuber  was  born  in  Philadelphia,  of  German  parents 
He  was  sent,  at  an  early  age,  to  the  university,  where  hi* 
genius,  diligence,  aud  amiable  temper,  soon  acquired  him 
the  particular  notice  and  favour  of  those  under  whose  im 
mediate  direction  he  was  placea.  After  parsing  through 
the  common  course  cf  study,  in  a  much  shorter  tirae  tnan 
usual,  he  left  the  university,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  with  great 
reputation.  Not  long  after,  he  entered  on  the  study  of  phy 
sic  ;  tnd  the  zeal  with  which  he  pursued  it,  and  the  ad- 
rances  he  made,  gavs  his  friends  reason  to  form  the  most 


ewer  them.  He  therefore  relinquished  it,  after  he  had  ob 
tained  a  degree  in  the  profession,  and  qualified  himself  to 
practice  with  ciedit  and  success  ;  and  immediately  entered 
on  the  study  of  the  lav/.  While  in  pursuit  of  the  last  men 
tioned  object,  he  xvas  prereoted,  by  a  prem&ture  death,  from 
raping  the  fruit  of  those  talents  with  which  he  sra*  en 
dowed,  and  of  a  youth  spent  in  the  ardent  aid  successful 
pursuit  of  useful  aod  elegant  literature. 


UFE  OF 


THE  promotion  of  literature  had  been  little  at 
tended  to  in  Perm  sylvan  la.  Most  of  the  inhabitants 
were  too  much  immersed  in  business  to  think  of  sci- 
cnt'fic  pursuits;  and  those  few,  whose  inclinations 
led  t'.<em  to  study,  found  it  difficult  fo  gKU.ify  them, 
from  the  want  of  libraries  sufficiently  largo.  In  such 
circumstances,  the  establishment  of  a  public  library 
was  an  important  event.  This  was  first  set  on  foot 
by  Franklin,  about  the  year  1731.  Fifty  persons 
subscribed  forty  shillings  each,  and  agreed  to  pay 
ten  shillings  annually.  The  number  increased ;  and 
in  1742,  the  company  was  incorporated  by  the  name 
of  "  The  Library  Company  of  Philadelphia."  Se 
veral  other  companies  were  formed  in  this  city  m 
imitation  of  it.  These  were  all  at  length  united  with 
the  Library  Company  of  Philadelphia,  which  thus  re  • 
ceived  a  considerable  accession  of  books  and  property. 
it  now  contains  about  eight  thousand  volumes  on  ail 
subjects,  a  philosophical  apparatus,  and  a  well-chosen 
Collection  of  natural  and*  artificial  curiosities.  For 
its  support,  the  Company  now  possessed  landed  pro. 
petty  of  considerable  value.  They  have  lately  built 
an  elega.nl  house  in  Fifth-street,  in  the  front  of  which 
will  be  erected  a  marble  statue  of  their  founder,  Ben 
jamin  Franklin. 

?  This  institution  was  greatly  encouraged  by  the 
friends  of  literature  in  America  and  in  Great  Britain. 
The  Perm  family  distinguished  themselves  by  their 
donations.  Amongst  the  earliest  friends  of  this  insti 
tution,  must  be  mentioned,  the  late  Peter  Collinson 
file  friend  and  companion  of  Dr.  Franklin.  He  no 
only  made  considerable  presents  himself,  and  obtain 
ed  others  from  his  friends,  but  voluntarily  undertook 
to  manage  the  business  of  the  Company  in  Lcndon, 
recommending  books,  purchasing  and  shipping  them. 
His  extensive  knowledge,  and  zeal  for  the  promotion 
»f  science,  enabled  him  to  execute  this  important 
trust  with  the  greatest  advantage.  He  continued  to 
ptribrm  these  services  for  more  than  thirty  years,  and 


DR.  FRANKLIN.        .  87 

uniformly  refused  to  accept  of  any  compensation. 
During  this  time,  he  communicated  to  the  directors 
-very  information  relative  to  improvements  and  dis 
coveries  in  the  arts,  agriculture,  and  philosophy. 

The  beneficial  influence  of  this  institution  was  soon 
evident.  The  terms  of  subscription  to  it  were  so  mo 
derate,  that  it  was  accessible  to  ever)'  one.  Its  advan 
tages  were  not  confined  to  the  opulent.  The  citizens 
in  the  middle  and  lower  walks  of  life  were  equally 
partakers  of  them.  Hence  a  degree  of  information 
was  extended  amongst  all  classes  of  people.  The 
example  was  soon  followed.  Libraries  were  estab 
lished  m  various  places,  and  they  are  now  become 
very  numerous  in  the  United  States,  and  particularly 
in  Pennsylvania.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  they  will  be 
still  more  widely  extended,  and  that  information  will 
be  every  where  increased.  This  will  be  the  best  se 
curity  for  maintaining  our  liberties.  A  nation  of  well- 
informed  men,  who  have  been  taught  to  know  and 
prize  ihe  rights  which  God  has  given  them,  cannot  be 
enslaved.  It  is  in  the  regions  of  ignorance  that  ty 
ranny  rc;gns.  It  flies  before  the  light  of  science.  Let 
the  citizens  of  America,  then,  encourage  institutions 
calculated  to  diffuse  knowledge  amongst  people  ;  and 
amongst  these,  public  libraries  are  not  the  least  im- 
por*.ant. 

In  1732,  Franklin  began  to  publish  Poor  Richard's 
Almanac.  This  was  lemarkable  for  the  numerous 
and  valuable  concise  maxims  which  it  contained,  all 
tending  to  exhort  to  industry  and  frugality.  It  was 
continued  for  many  years.  In  the  almanac  for  tha 
last  year,  all  the  maxii;s  were  collected  in  an  address 
lo  the  reader,  entitled,  "  The  Way  to  Wealth."  This 
has  been  translated  into  vai  ious  languages,  and  in 
serted  in  difieient  publications.  It  has  also  been 
printed  on  a  large  sheet,  and  may  be  seen  framed  in 
many  houses  in  this  city.  Tliis  address  contains, 
perhaps,  the  best  practical  system  of  economy  that 
ever  has  appeared.  It  is  written  in  a  manner  intelli 
gible  to  every  one,  and  which  cannot  fail  of  convinc 
ing  every  reader  of  the  justice  and  propriety  of  the 
remarks  and  advice  which  it  contains.  The  demand 
for  this  almanac  was  so  great,  that  ten  thousand 


83  LIFE  OF  . 

Uave  been  sold  in  one  year ;  which  must  be  consi 
twred  as  a  very  large  number,  especially  when  we  re* 
fleet,  that  this  country  was,  at  that  time,  but  thinly 
peopled.  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  salutary 
maxims  contained  in  these  almanacs  must  have 
made  a  favourable  impression  upon  many  of  the  rea 
ders  of  them. 

It  was  not  long  before  Franklin  entered  upon  his 
political  career.  In  the  year  1 736,  he  was  appointed 
clerk  to  the  general  assembly  of  Pennsylvania ;  and 
was  re-elected  by  succeeding  assemblies  for  several 
years,  until  he  was  chosen  a  representative  for  the 
city  of  Philadelphia. 

Bradford  was  possessed  of  some  advantages  over 
Franklin,  by  being  post- master,  thereby  having  an  op 
portunity  of  circulating  nis  paper  more  extensively, 
and  thus  rendering  it  a  better  vehicle  for  advertise 
ments,  &c.  Franklin,  in  his  turn,  enjoyed  these  ad 
vantages,  by  being  appointed  post-master  of  Philadel 
phia,  in  1737.  Bradford,- while  in  office,  had  acted 
ungenerously  toward  Franklin,  preventing,  as  much 
as  possible,  the  ci  ;ulation  of  his  paper.  He  had  now 
an  opportunity  01  retaliating;  but  nis  nobleness  of 
soul  prevented  him  from  making  use  of  it. 

The  police  of  Philadelphia  had  early  appointed 
watchmen,  whose  duty  it  was  to  guard  the  citizens 
against  the  midnight  robber,  and  to  give  an  immediate 
alarm  in  case  of  fire.  This  duty  is,  perhaps,  one  of 
the  most  important  that  can  be  committed  to  any  set 
of  men.  The  regulations,  however,  were  not  suffi 
ciently  strict.  Franklin  saw  the  dangers  arising  from 
this  cause,  and  suggested  an  alteration,  so  as  to  oblige 
the  guardians  of  the  night  to  be  more  watchful  ovei 
the  lives  and  property  of  the  citizens.  The  propriety 
of  this  was  immediately  perceived,  and  a  reform  was 
effected. 

There  is  nothing  more  dangerous  to  growing  cities 
than  fires.  Other  causes  operate  slowly,  and  almost 
imperceptibly  ;  but  these,  in  a  moment,  render  abor 
tive  the  labours  of  ages.  On  this  account  there  should 
be,  in  all  cities,  ample  provisions  to  prevent  fires  from 
spread  big.  Franklin  early  saw  the  necessity  of  these ; 
and,  about  the  year  1738,  formed  the  first  fire  coin- 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  89 

nany  in  this  city.  This  example  was  soon  followed 
by  others ;  and  there  are  now  numerous  fire  compa- 
n4es  in  the  city  and  liberties.  To  these  may  be  attri 
buted,  in  a  great  degree,  the  activity  in  extinguishing 
fires.,  for  which  the  citizens  of  Philadelphia  are  dis 
tinguished,  and  the  inconsiderable  damage  which  this 
city  has  sustained  from  this  cause.  Son.e  time  after» 
Franklin  suggested  the  plan  of  an  association  for  in 
suring  houses  from  losses  by  fire,  which  was  adopted, 
and  the  association  continues  to  this  day.  The  ad 
vantages  experienced  from  it  have  been  great. 

From  the  first  establishment  of  Pennsylvania,  a 
spirit  of  dispute  appears  to  have  prevailed  amongst 
its  inhabirants.  During  the  life-time  of  William  Penn, 
the  constitution  had  been  three  times  altered.  After 
fhis  period,  the  history  of  Pennsylvania  is  little  elso 
iian  a  recital  of  the  quarrels  between  the  proprieta 
ries,  or  their  governors,  and  the  Assembly.  The  pro 
prietaries  contended  for  the  right  ol  exempting  their 
lands  from  taxes;  to  which  :he  Assembly  would  by 
no  means  consent.  This  subject  of  dispute  interfered 
in  alnuost  every  question,  and  prevented  the  most  sa- 
iutaiy  laws  from  being  enacted.  This,  at  times,  sub 
jected  the  people,  to  great  inconveniences.  In  the 
year  1 744,  during  a  war  between  France  and  Great 
Britain,  some  French  and  Indians  had  made  inroads 
upon  the  frontier  inhabitants  of  the  province,  who 
were  unprovided  for  such  an  attack.  It  became  ne 
cessary  that  the  citizens  should  arm  for  their  defence. 
Governor  Thomas  recommended  to  the  Assembly, 
who  were  then  sitting,  to  pass  a  militia  law.  To  thi» 
ihey  would  agree,  only  upon  condition  that  lie  should 
give  his  assent  to  certain  laws,  which  appeared  tc 
them  calculated  to  promote  the  interests  of  the  peo 
ule.  As  lie  thought  these  laws  would  be  injurious  t« 
the  proprietaries,  ho  refused  his  assent  to  them ;  and 
the  Assembly  broke  up  without  passing  a  militia  law. 
The  situation  of  the  province  was,  at  this  time,  trulj 
al-urning ;  exposed  to  the  continual  inroad  of  an  ene 
my,  destitute  of  every  means  of  defence.  At  this 
irisis,  Franklin  stepped  forth,  and  proposed  to  a 
meeting  of  tlie  citizens  of  Philadelphia,  a  plan  of  a 
voluntary  association  for  the  defence  of  the  province 


90  LIFE  OF 

This  was  approved  of,  and  signed  by  twelve  hundred 

(>ersons  immediately.  Copies  were  instantly  circu- 
ated  throughout  the  province ;  and,  in  a  short  time, 
the  number  of  signers  amounted  to  ten  thousand. 
Franklin  was  chosen  colonel  of  the  Philadelphia  re 
giment;  but  he  (?'•.!  not  think  proper  to  accept  of  the 
honour. 

Pursuits  of  a  different  nature  now  occupied  the 
greatest  part  of  his  attention  for  some  years.  He  en 
gaged  in  a  course  of  electrical  experiments,  with  al 
the  ardour  and  thirst,  for  discovery  which  character 
izcd  the  philosophers  of  that  day.  Of  all  the  branches 
of  experimental  philosophy,  electricity  had  been  least 
explored.  The  attractive  power  of  amber  is  men 
tioned  by  Theoplirastus  and  Pliny,  and  from  them,  by 
later  naturalists.  In  the  year  1600,  Gilbert,  an  Eng 
lish  physician,  enlarged,  considerably,  the  catalogue 
of  substances  which  have  the  property  of  attracting 
light  bodies.  Boyle,  Otto  Cucricke,  a  burgomaster  of 
Magdeburg,  celebrated  as  the  inventor  of  the  air- 

Eurnp,  Dr.  Wall,  and  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  added  some 
icts.  Guericke  first  observed  the  repulsive  power 
of  electricity,  and  the  light  and  noise  produced  by  it. 
In  1709,  Hawkesbec  communicated  some  important 
observations  and  experiments  to  the  world.  F or  se 
veral  years,  electricity  was  entirely  neglected,  until 
Mr.  Grey  applied  himself  to  it,  in  1728,  with  great  as 
siduity.  He  and  his  friend,  Mr.  Wheeler,  made  a  great 
variety  of  experiments;  :n  which  they  demonstrated, 
that  electricity  may  be  communicated  from  one  bod) 
to  another,  even  without  buing  in  contact,  and  in  thit 
way,may  be  conducted  to  a  great  distance.  IVlr.  Grej 
ftenvards  found,  That,  by  suspending  rods  of  iron  oj 
elk  or  hair  lines,  and  bringing  an  excited  tube  undo 
them,  sparks  might  be  drawn,  and  a  iijiht  perceived 
at  the  extremities  in  the  dark.  M.  Du  Faye,  inlen 
dant  of  the  French  king's  gardens,  made  a  numbef 
of  experiments,  which  'idded  not  a  little  to  the  science 
He  marie  the  discoverv  of  two  kinds  of  electricity, 
which  he  called  vitreous  and  resinous;  the  formes 
produced  by  rubbing  glass,  the  latter  from  pelted 
culphur,  sealing-wax,  <fec.  But  this  idea  he  after 
wards  gave  up  as  erroneous.  Between  the  years  1 739 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  91 

and  1742,  Dcsauguliers  made  a  number  of  experi 
ments,  but  added  little  of  importance.  He  first  used 
the  terms  conductor* :  and  electrics  per  se.  In  1742, 
several  ingenious  Germans  engaged  in  this  subject; 
of  these  the  principal  were,  professor  Boze,  of  Wit- 
temberg,  professor  Winkler,  of  Leipsic,  Gordon,  a 
Scotch  Benedictine  monk,  professor  of  philosophy  at 
Erfurt,  and  Dr.  Ludolf,  of  Berlin.  The  result  of  their 
researches  astonished  the  philosophers  of  Europe. 
Their  apparatus  was  large,  and  by  means  of  it  they 
\vere  enabled  to  collect  large  quantities  of  the  electric 
fluid,  and  thus  to  produce  phenomena  which  had  been 
hitherto  unobserved.  They  killed  small  birds,  and 


phia,  an  account  of  these  experiments,  together  with 
a  tube,  and  directions  how  to  use  it.  Franklin,  vrith 
some  of  his  friends,  immediately  engaged  in  a  course 
of  experiments ;  the  result  of  which  is  well  known. 
He  was  enabled  to  make  a  number  of  important  disco 
veries,  and  to  propose  theories  to  account  for  various 
phenomena,  wmch  have  been  universally  adopted, 
and  which  bid  fair  to  endure  for  ages.  His  obser 
vations  he  communicated,  in  a  series  of  letters,  to 
his  friend  Coliinsou ;  the  first  of  which  is  dated 
March  23,  1747.  In  these  he  shows  the  power  of 
points  in  drawing  and  throwing  off  the  electrical 
matter,  which  had  hitnorto  escaped  the  notice  of  elec 
tricians.  He  also  made  the  grand  discovery  of  a  plus 
and  minus,  or  of  a  positive 'And  negative  state  of  elec 
tricity.  .We  give  him  the  honour  of  this,  without 
hesitation;  although  the  English  have  claimed  it  for 
their  countryman,  Dr.  Waison.  Watson's  paper  is 
dated  January  21,  1748;  Franklin's,  July  11,  1747; 
several  months  prior.  Shortly  after,  Franklin,  from 
his  principles  of  the  plus  and  minus  stale,  explained, 
in  a  satisfactory  manner,  the  phenomena  of  the  Ley- 
den  phial,  firet  observed  by  Mr.  Cuneus,  or  by  pro 
fessor  Muschenbroeck,  of  Leyclen,  which  had  much 
perplexed  philosophers.  He  showed  clearly,  that  the 
bottle,  when  charged,  contained  no  more  electricity 
than  before,  but  that  as  much  was  taken  from  ono 


92  LIFE  OF 

side  as  was  thrown  on  the  other ;  and  that,  to  dis 
charge  it,  nothing  was  necessary  but  to  produce  a 
communication  between  the  two  sides  by  which  the 
equilibrium  might  be  restored,  and  that  then  no  signs 
of  electricity  would  remain.  He  afterwards  demon 
strated,  by  experiments,  that  the  electricity  did  not  re- 
gide  in  the  coating,  as  had  been  supposed,  but  in  the 
pores  of  the  glass  itself.  After  a  phial  was  charged, 
he  removed  the  coating,  and  found  that  upon  applying 
a  new  coating,  the  shock  might  still  be  received.  In 
the  year  1 749,  he  first  suggested  his  idea  of  explaining 
the  phenomena  of  thundergusts,  and  of  the  aurora- 
borealis,  upon  electrical  principles.  He  points  out 
many  particulars  in  which  lightning  and  electricity 
agree  ;  and  he  adduces  many  tacts,  and  reasonings 
from  facts,  in  support  of  his  positions.  In  the  same 
year  he  conceived  the  astonishingly  bold  and  grand 
idea  of  ascertaining  the  truth  of  his  doctrine,  by  ac 
tually  drawing  down  the  lightning,  by  means  of  sharp 
pointed  iron  rods  raised  into  the  region  of  the  clouds. 
Even  in  tlris  uncertain  state,  his  passion  to  be  useful 
to  mankind  displays  itself  in  a  powerful  manner.  Ad 
mitting  trm  identity  of  electricity  and  lightning,  and 
knowing  the  power  of  points  in  repelling  bodies  charged 
with  electricity,  and  in  conducting  their  fires  silently 
and  imperceptibly,  h«  suggested  the  idea  of  securing 
houses,  ships,  &,c.  from  being  damaged  by  lightning, 
by  erecting  pointed  rods,  that  should  rise  some  feet 
above  the  most  elevated  part,  and  descend  some  feet 
into  the  ground  or  the  water.  The  effect  of  these,  ho 
concluded,  would  be  either  to  prevent  a  stroke,  by  re 
pelling  the  cloud  beyond  the  striking  distance,  or  by 
drawing  oft'  the  electrical  lire  which  it  contained ;  01^ 
if  they  could  not  effect  this,  they  would  et  least  con 
duct  the  electric  matter  to  the  earth,  without  any  in 
jury  to  the  building. 

It  was  not  until  the  summer  of  1 752,  that  he  was 
enabled  to  complete  his  grand  and  unparalleled  dis 
covery  by  experiment.  The  plan  which  he  had  ori 
ginally  proposed,  was  to  erect  on  some  high  tower,  ot 
other  elevated  place,  a  sentry-box,  from  which  should 
rise  a  pointed  iron  rod,  insulated  by  being  fixed  in  a 
cake  of  resin.  Electrified  clouds  passing  over  this, 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  £3 

would,  he  conceived,  impart  to  it  a  portion  of  their 
electricity,  which  would  be  rendered  evident  to  the 
tenses  by  sparks  being  emitted,  when  a  key,  the  knuckle, 
ir  oilier  conductor,  was  presented  to  it.  Philadelphia 


it  this  time  afforded  no  opportunity  of  trying  an  ex 
periment  of  this  kind.  While  Franklin  was  waiting 
for  the  erection  of  a  spire,  it  occurred  to  him  that  he 


might  have  more  ready  access  to  the  region  of  clouds 
by  mea.is  of  a  common  kite.  He  prepared  one  by 
fastening  two  cross  sticks  to  a  silk  handkerchief,  which 
would  not  suffer  so  much  from  the  rain  as  paper.  To 
the  upright  stick  was  affixed  an  iron  point.  The  string 
was,  as  usual:  of  hemp,  except  tne  lower  end,  which 
was  silk.  Where  the  hempen  string  terminated,  a  key 
was  fastened.  With  tkis  apparatus,  on  the  appear 
ance  of  a  thundcrgust  approaching,  lie  went  out  into 
the  commons,  accompanied  by  his  son,  to  whom  alone 
he  commun'cated  his  intentions,  well  knowing  the  rid 
icule  which,  too  generally  for  the  interest  of  science, 
awaits  unsuccessful  experiments  in  philosophy.  He 
placed  himscU  under  a  shade,  to  avoid  the  rain — his 
kite  was  raised — a  thunder-cloud  passed  over  it — no 
sign  of  -electricity  appeared.  He  almost  despaired  of 
success,  when,  suddenly,  he  observed  the  loose  fibres 
of  his  string  to  move  towards  an'  erect  position.  He 
now  presented  his  knuckle  to  the  key,  and  received  a 
strong  spark.  How  exquisite  must  his  sensations  have 
been  at  this  moment !  On  this  experiment  depended 
Ihe  fate  of  his  theory.  If  he  succeeded,  his  name 
would  ranK  high  among  those  who  had  improved 
science :  if  he  failed,  he  must  inevitably  be  subjected 
to  the  derision  of  mankind,  or,  what  is  worse,  their 
pity,  as  a  well-meaning  man,  but  a  weak,  silly  projector. 
The  anxiety  with  which  he  looked  for  the  result  of  his 
experiment,  may  be  easily  conceived.  Doubts  and 
despair  had  begun  to  prevail,  when  the  fact  was  ascer 
tained  in  so  clear  a  manner,  that  even  the  most  incre 
dulous  could  no  longer  withhold  theirassent.  Repeated 
sparks  were  drawn  from  the  key,  a  phial  was  charged, 
a  shock  g'ven,  and  all  the  experiments  made  which 
are  usually  performed  with  electricity. 

About  a  month  before  this  period,  some  ingenious 
Frenchman  had  completed  the  discovery  in  themau* 


94  LIFE  OF 

ner  originally  proposed  by  Dr.  Franklin.  The  letters 
which  he  sent  to  Mr.  Collmson,  it  is  said,  were  refused 
a  place  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Society  of 
London.  However  this  may  be,  Collinson  published 
them  in  a  separate  volume,  under  the  title  of  "  New 
Experiments 'and  Observations  on  Electricity,  made  at 
Philadelphia,  in  America,"  They  were  read  with 
avidity,  and  soon  translated  into  different  languages. 
A  very  incorrect  French  translation  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  celebrated  Bulfon,  who,  notwithstanding  the 
disadvantages  under  winch  the  work  laboured,  was 
much  pleased  with  it,  aivi  repeated  the  experiments 
with  success.  He  prevailed  on  his  friend,  M.  D'Ali- 
bard,  to  give  his  countrymen  a  more  correct  transla 
tion  of  the  works  of  the  American  electrician.  This 
contributed  much  towards  spreading  a  knowledge  of 
Franklin's  principles  in  France.  The  king,  Louis 
XV.  hearing  of  these  experiments,  expressed  a  wish 
to  be  a  spectator  of  them.  A  course  of  experiments 
was  given  at  the  seat  of  the  Due  D'Ayen,  at  St.  Ger 
main,  by  M.  de  Lor.  The  applauses  vhioh  the  King 
bestowed  upon  Franklin,  excited  in  Button,  D'Alibard, 
and  De  Lor,  an  earnest  desire  of  ascertaining  the  truth 
of  his  theory  of  thundergust.  Buffon  erected  his  ap 
paratus  on  the  tower  of  Montbar,  M.  D'Alibard  at 
Mary-la- ville,  and  De  Lor  at  his  house  in  the  Estra- 
padt  at  Paris,  some  of  the  highest  ground  in  that  capi 
tal.  D'Alibard's  machine  first  showed  signs  of  elec 
tricity.  On  the  10th  of  May,  1752,  a  thunder-cloud 
passed  over  it,  in  the  absence  of  M.  D'Alibard,  and  a 
number  of  sparks  were  drawn  from  it  by  Coiflier,  a 
joiner,  with  whom  D'Alibard  had  left  directions  how 
to  proceed,  and  by  M.  Raulet.  the  prior  of  Mary-la- 
ville.  An  account  of  this  experiment  was  given  to  tha 
Royal  Academy  of  Sciences,  by  M.  D'Alibard,  in  a 
Memoir,  dated  May  13th,  1752.  On  the  18th  of  May, 
M.  de  Lor  proved  equally  successful  with  the  appara 
tus  erected  at  his  own  house.  These  philosophers 
soon  excited  those  of  other  parts  of  Europe  to  repeat 
the  experiment,  among  whom,  none  signalized  them 
selves  more  than  Father  Beccaria,  of  Turin,  to  whose 
observations  science  is  much  indebted.  Even  the  cold 
regions  of  Russia  were  penetrated  by  the  ardour  for 


DR.  FRANKLUV.  95 

discovery.  Pixtfessor  Richman  bade  fair  to  add  much 
to  the  stock  of  knowledge  on  this  subject,  when  an 
unfortunate  flash  fiorn  his  conductor  put  a  period  to 
his  existence.  The  friends  of  science  will  long  re 
member  with  regret,  the  amiable  martyr  to  electricity. 

By  these  expeiiments  Franklin's  theory  was  estab 
lished  in  the  most  convincing  manner.  When  the 
truth  of  it  could  no  longer  be  doubted,  envy  and  va* 
nity  endeavoured  to  detract  from  its  merit.  That  an 
American,  an  inhabitant  of  the  obscure  city  of  Phila 
del^hia,  the  name  of  which  was  hardly  known,  should 
be  able  to  make  discoveries,  and  to  frame  theories, 
which  had  escaped  the  notice  of  the  enlightened  phi 
losophers  of  Europe,  was  too  mortifying  to  be  admit 
ted.  He  must  certainly  have  taken  the  idea  from 
some  one  else.  An  American,  a  being  of  an  inferior 
order,  make  discoveries! — Impossible.  It  was  said, 
that  the  Abbe  Noilet,  1748,  had  suggested  the  idea  of 
the  similarity  of  lightning  and  electricity,  in  his  Le~ 
cons  de  Physique.  It  is  true  that  the  Abbe  mentions 
the  idea,  but  he  throws  it  out  as  a  bare  coniecture,  and 
proposes  no  mode  of  ascertaining  the  truth  of  it.  He 
himsel-f  acknowledges,  that  FrankVm  first  entertained, 
the  bold  thought  of  bringing  lightning"  from  the  hea 
vens,  by  means  of  pointed  rods  fixed  in  the  air.  The 
similarity  of  lightning  and  electricity  is  so  strong,  that 
we  need  not  be  surprised  at  notice  "being  taken  of  it, 
as  soon  as  electrical  phenomena  became  familiar.  We 
find  it  mentioned  by  Dr.  Wall  and  Mr.  Grey,  whJlethe 
science  was  in  its  infancy.  But  the  honour  of  form 
ing  a  regular  theory  of  thundergusts,  of  suggesting  a 
mode  of  determining  the  truth  of  it  by  experiments,  and 
of  putting  these  experiments  in  practice,  and  thus  es  *" 
ablishmg  the  theory  upon  a  firm  and  solid  basis,  i 
hcontestjbly  due  to  Franklin.  D'Alibard,  who  mat!, 
the  first  experiments  in  France,  says,  that  k3  only  fol 
loworl  the  tract  which  Franklin  had  pointed  out. 

It  has  been  of  late  asserted,  that  the  honour  of  com 
plcting  the  experiment  with  the  electrical  kite,  does 
not  belong  to  Franklin.  Some  late  English  naragiaphs 
have  attributed  it  to  some  Frenchman,  whose  nnme 
they  do  not  mention  ;  and  the  Abbe  Bertholon  gives  it 
to  M.  de  Romas,  assessor  to  the  presideal  of  Nerac 


96  LIFE  OF 

the  English  paragraphs  probably  refer  to  the  same 
person.  But  a  very  slight  attention  will  convince  us 
of  the  injustice  of  this  procedure:  Dr.  Franklin's  ex 
periment  was  made  in  June,  1752;  and  his  letter, 
giving  an  account  of  it,  is  dated  October  19,1752 
M.jde  Romas  made  his  first  attempt  on  the  14th  of 
May,  1753,  but  was  not  successful  until  the  7th  of 
June,  a  year  after  Franklin  had  completed  the  dis 
overy,  and  when  it  was  known  to  all  me  philosopher 
n  Europe. 

Besides  these  great  principles,  Franklin's  letters  oi 
electricity  contain  a  number  of  facts  and  hints,  whicb 
have  contributed  greatly  towards  reducing  this  brand 
of  knowledge  to  a  science.  His  friend  Mr.  Kinners 
ley  communicated  to  him  a  discovery  of  the  different 
kinds  of  electricity,  excited  by  rubbing  glass  and  sul 
phur.  This,  we  have  raid,  was  first  observed  by  M 
du  Faye ;  but  it  was  tor  many  years  neglected.  Th* 
philosophers  were  disposed  to  account  for  the  pheno 
inena,  rather  from  a  difference  in  the  quantity  of  elec 
tricity  collected,  and  even  Du  Faye  himself  seems  at 
last  to  have  adopted  this  doctrine.  Franklin,  at  first, 
entertained  the  same  idea ;  but,  upon  repeating  the 
experiments,  he  perceived  that  Mr.  Kinnersley  was 
right .'  and  that  the  vitreous  and  resinous  electricity  of 
Du  Faye  were  nothing  more  than  the  positive  and  ne 
gative  states  winch  he  had  before  observed  ;  and  that 
the  glass  globe  charged  positively,  or  increased  the 
quan'ity  of  electricity  on  the  prime  conduotor,  whilt 
the  globe  of  sulphur  diminished  its  natural  quantity 
or  charged  negatively.  These  experiments  and  obser« 
vations  opened  a  new  field  for  investigation,  upon 
which  electricians  entered  with  avidity;  and  their  Ia^ 
bours  have  added  much  to  the  stock  of  our  knowledge, 
Jn  September,  1752,  Franklin  entered  upon  a  coursa 
of  experiments,  to  determine  the  state  of  electricity  in 
the  clouds.  From  a  number  of  experiments  he  form 
ed  this  conclusion  : — "  That  the  clouds  of  a  thunder- 
gust  are  most  commonly  in  a  negative  state  of  electri 
city,  but  sonieiiip.es  in  a  positive  state  ;"  and  from  this 
it  follow*,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  "  that,  for  the 
most  part,  in  thunder-strokes,  it  is  the  earth  that  strikes 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  07 

into  the  clouds,  and  not  the  clouds  that  strike  into 
the  earth."  The  letter  containing  these  observations 
is  dated  in  September,  1753 ;  and  yet  the  discovery  of 
ascending  thunder  has  been  said  to  be  of  a  modern  date, 
and  has  been  attributed  to  the  Abbe  Bertholcn,  who 
published  his  memoir  on  the  subject  in  1776. 

Franklin's  letters  have  been  translated  into  mosl 
of  the  European  languages,  and  into  Latin.  In  propor- 
ion  as  they  have  become  known,  his  principles  hava 
fceen  adopted.  Some  opposition  was  made  to  hii 
theories,  particularly  by  the  Abbe  \ollet,  who  wa?, 
however  but  feebly  supported,  while  the  first  philoso 
phers  in  F^urope  stepped  forth  in  defence  of  Frank 
lin's  principles,  amongst  whom  D'Alibard  and  Bcc- 
caria  were  the  most  distinguished.  The  oppsition 
has  gradually  ceased,  and  the  Franklinian  system  is 
now  universally  adopted,  where  science  flourishes. 

The  important  practical  use  which  Franklin  made 
of  his  discoveries,  the  securing  of  houses  from  injury 
by  lightning,  has  been  already  mentioned.  Pointed 
conductors  are  now  very  common  in  America;  but 
prejudice  has  hitherto  prevented  their  general  intro 
duction  into  Europe,  notwithstanding  the  most  un 
doubted  proofs  of  their  utility  have  been  given.  But 
mankind  can  with  difficulty  be  brought  to  lay  aside 
established  practices,  or  to  adopt  new  ones.  And 
perhaps  we  have  more  reason  to  be  surprised  that  a 
practice,  however  rational,  which  was  proposed 
about  forty  ago,  should  in  that  time  have  been  adopt 
ed  in  so  many  places,  than  that  it  has  not  universal 
ly  prevailed.  It  is  only  by  degrees  that  the  great 
body  of  mankind  can  be  led  into  new  practices,  how 
ever  salutary  their  tendency.  It  is  now  neaily  eighty 
years  since  inoculation  was  introduced  into  Europe 
and  America;  and  it  is  so  far  from  b«ing  general  at 
present,  that  it  will  require  one  or  two  centuries  to 
render  it  so. 

In  the  year  174"),  Franklin  published  an  account  of 
his  new  invented  Pennsylvania  fire-places;  in  which 
he  minutely  and  accurately  states  ;he  advantages  of 
different  kinds  oj  fire-places ;  and  endeavours  to 
show,  that  the  one  which  he  describes  is  to  be  pre 
ferred  to  any  otner.  This  contrivance  iias  given  i  i*o 


*8  LIFlC  OP 

to  the  open  stores  now  In  gerMral  use,  which,  how 
ever,  differ  from  it  i»  construction,  particularly  hi  not 
having  an  air-box  at  the  back,  through  winch  a  con 
stant  supply  cf  air,  wanned  in  its  passage,  is  thrown 
into  the  room.  The  advantages  of  this  air,  that  as  a 
stream  of  warm  air  is  continually  flowing  into  the 
room,  less  fuel  is  necessary  to  preserve  a  proper  tem 
perature,  and  the  room,  may  be  so  tightened  as  that  no 
air  may  enter  through  cracks — the  consequence  ol 
which  are  colds,  tooth-aches,  &c. 

Although  philosophy  was  a  principal  object  cf 
Franklin's  pursuit  for  several  years,  he  confined  him- 
relf  not  to  this.  In  the  year  1747,  he  became  a  mem 
ber  of  the  general  assembly  of  Pennsylvania,  as  a 
burgess  for  the  city  of  Philadelphia.  Warm  disputes 
subsisted  at  this  time  between  the  Assembly  and  the 
proprietaries;  each  contending  for  what  they  conceiv 
ed  to  be  their  just  rights.  Franklin,  a  friend  to  the 
rights  of  man  from  his  infancy,  spun  distinguished 
himself  a  steady  opponent  of  the  unjust  schemes  of 
the  proprietaries.  He  was  soon  looked  up  to  as  tha 
head  ot  the  opposition ;  and  to  him  have  been  attri 
buted  many  of  the  spirited  replies  of  the  Assembly  to 
the  messages  of  the  governors.  His  influence  in  the 
body  was  very  great.  This  arose  not  from  any  supe 
rior  powers  of  eloquence ;  he  spoke  but  seldom,  and 
he  never  was  known  to  make  any  thing  like  an  ela 
borate  harrangne.  His  speeches  often  consisted  of  a 
single  sentence,  of  a  well-told  story,  the  moral  of  which 
was  obviously  to  the  point.  He  never  attempted  the 
flowery  field  of  oratory.  His  manner  was  plain  and 
mild.  His  style  in  speaking  was,  like  that  of  hia 
writings,  simple,  anadorned,  and  remarkably  concise. 
With  this  plain  manner,  and  his  penetrating  and  solid 
judgment,  he  was  able  to  confound  the  most  eloquent 
and  subtle  of  his  adversaries,  to  confirm  the  opinions 
of  his  friends,  and  to  make  converts  of  the  unpreju 
diced  who  had  opposed  him.  With  a  single  observa 
tion,  he  has  rendered  of  no  avail  an  elegant  and 
lengthy  discourse,  and  determined  the  fate  of  a  ques- 
ticn  cf  importance. 

But  he  was  not  contented  with  thus  supporting  the 
fights  of  the  people.  He  wished  to  render  them  per- 


DR  FRANKLIN.  99 

manently  secure,  whJch  can  only  be  done  by  making 
their  value  properly  known ;  and  this  must  depend 
upon  increasing  and  extending  information  to  every 
c-*iss  of  men.  We  have  already  seen  that  he  was 
the  founder  of  the  public  library,  which  contributed 
greatly  towards  improving  the  minds  of  the  citizens. 
But  this  was  not  sufficient.  The  schools  then  sub 
sisting  were  in  general  of  little  utility.  The  teachers 
were  men  ill  qualified  for  the  important  duty  which 
hey  had  undertaken ;  and,  after  all,  nothing  mor 
could  be  obtained  than  the  rudiments  of  a  common 
English  education.  Franklin  drew  up  a  plan  of  an 
academy,  to  be  erected  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia, 
suited  to  "the  state  of  an  infant  country;"  but  hi 
this,  as  in  all  his  plans,  he  confined  not  his  views  to 
the  present  time  only.  He  looked  forward  to  the  pe 
riod  when  an  institution  on  an  enlarged  plan  would 
become  necessary.  With  this  view,  he  considered 
his  academy  as  "a  foundation  for  posterity  to  erect 
a  seminary  of  learning  more  extensive,  and  suitable 
to  future  circ-umstances."  In  pursuance  of  this  plan, 
the  constitutions  were  drawn  up  and  signed  on  the 
13th  of  November,  1 749.  In  these,  twenty-four  of  tne 
most  respectable  citizens  of  Philadelphia  were  named 
as  trustees.  In  the  choice  of  these,  and  in  the  for 
mation  of  his  plan,  Franklin  is  said  to  have  consulted 
cniefly  with  Tnomo0  Hopkinson,  Esq.  the  Rev. Richard 
Peters,  then  secretary  of  the  province,  Tench  Francis, 
Esq.  attorney-general,  and  Dr.  Phineas  Bond. 

The  following  article  shows  a  spirit  of  benevo 
lence  worthy  of  imitation ;  and,  for  the  honour  of  ouz 
city,  we  hope  that  it  continues  to  be  in  force. 

"  In  case  of  the  disability  of  the  rector,  or  any 
master  (established  on  the  foundation  by  receiving  a 
ertain  salary)  through  sickness,  or  any  other  natu 
ial  infirmity,  whereby  he  may  be  reduced  to  poverty 
the  trustees  shall  have  po\ver  to  contribute  to  his  sup 
port,  in  proportion  to  his  distress  and  merit,  and  the 
stock  in  their  hands," 

The  last  clause  of  the  fundamental  rule  is  express 
ed  in  language  so  tender  and  benevolent,  so  truly 
parental,  that  it  will  do  everlasting  Honour  to  the 
*nearts  and  heads  of  the  founders. 


100  LIFE  OF 

"  It  i*  hoped  and  expected  that  the  trustees  will 
make  it  their  pleasure,  and  in  some  degree  their  bu 
siness,  to  visit  the  academy  often ;  to  encourage  and 
countenance  ihe  youth,  to  countenance  and  assist  the 
masters,  and  by  ail  means  in  their  power,  advance 
the  usefulness  and  .reputation  of  the  design;  that 
they  will  look  on  the  students  as,  in  some  measure, 
their  own  children,  treat  them  with  familiarity  and 
affection;  and  when  they  have  behaved  well,  gone 
through  their  studies,  and  are  to  enter  the  world, 
they  shall  zealously  unite,  and  make  all  the  interest 
that  can  be  made  to  promote  and  establish  them, 
whether  in  business,  offices,  marriages,  or  any  other 
thing  for  their  advantage,  in  preference  to  all  other 
persons  whatsoever,  even  of  equal  merit." 

The  constitution  being  signed  and  made  public, 
with  the  names  of  the  gentlemen  proposing  them 
selves  as  trustees  and  founders,  the  design  was  so 
well  approved  of  by  the  public-spirited  citizens  ol 
Philadelphia,  that  the  sum  of  eight  hundred  pounds 
per  annum,  for  five  years,  was  in  the  course  of  a 
lew  weeks  subscribed  for  carrying  it  into  execu 
tion  ;  and  in  the  beginning  of  January  following 
(viz.  17oO)  three  of  t?he  schools  were  opened,  name 
ly  the  Latin  and  Greek  schools,  the  mathematical 
school,  and  the  English  school,  in  pursuance  of 
an  article  in  the  original  plan,  a  school  for  edu 
cating  sixty  boys  and  thirty  girls  (in  the  charter 
since  called  the  Charitable  School)  was  opened ; 
and,  amidst  all  the  difficulties  with  which  the  trus- 
'  tees  have  struggled  in  respect  to  their  funds,  lias 
still  been  continued  full  for  the  space  of  fort} 
years;  so  that  'allowing  three  years  education  fo/ 
ach  boy  and  girl  admitted  into  it,  which  is  the  ge 
iieral  rule,  at  least  twelve  hundred  children  have 
received  in  it  the  chief  part  of  their  education,  who 
might  otherwise,  in  a  great  measure,  have  been  left 
without  the  means  of  instruction.  And  many  oi 
those  who  have  been  thus  educated,  are  now  to  be 
lound  among  the  most  useful  and  reputable  citizen* 
of  this  state. 

Tim  institution)  thus  successfully  begun,  con 
tinued  daily  to  flourish,  to  the  great  satisfaction  ol. 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  101 

Dr.  Franklin ;  who,  notwithstanding  the  multipli 
city  of  his  other  engagements  and  pursuits,  at  that 
busy  stage  of  his  life,  was  a  constant  attendant  at 
the  monthly  visitations  and  examinations  of  the 
schools,  and  made  it  his  particular  study,  by  means 
of  his  extensive  correspondence  abroad,  to  advance 
the  reputation  of  the  seminary,  and  to  draw  stu 
dents  and  scholars  to  it  from  the  different  parts  o 
America  and  the  West  Indies.  Through  the  inter 
position  of  his  benevolent  and  learned  friend,  Pete 
Collinson  of  London,  upon  the  application  of  th 
trustees,  a  charter  of  incorporation,  dated  July  13 
1753,  was  obtained  from  the  honourable  proprietors 
of  Pennsylvania,  Thomas  Penn,  and  Richard  Penn, 
Esqrs.  accompanied  with  a  liberal  benefaction  of 
five  hundred  pounds  sterling ;  and  Dr.  Franklin 
now  began  in  good  earnest  to  please  himself  with 
the  hopes  of  a  speedy  accomplishment  of  his  ori 
ginal  design,  viz.  the  establishment  of  a  perfect  in- 
siiiution,  upon  the  plan  of  the  European  colleges 
and  universities ;  for  which  his  academy  was  in 
tended  as  a  nursery  or  foundation.  To  elucidate 
this  fact,  is  a  mauer  of  considerable  importance  in 
respect  to  the  memory  aud  character  of  Dr.  Frank- 
lin  as  a  philosopher,  and  as  ll.e  friend  and  patron 
of  learning  and  science:  for,  notwithstanding  what 
is  expressly  declared  by  him  in  the  preamble  to 
the  constitutions,  viz.  that  the  academy  was  begun 
for  "  teaching  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages,  with 
All  useful  branches  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  suita 
ble  to  the  stare  of  an  infant  country,  and  laying  a 
foundation  for  posterity  to  erect  a  seminary  ct 
learning  more  extensive,  and  suitable  to  their  fu 
ure  circumstances  ;"  yet  It  has  been  suggested  o 
late,  as  upon  Dr.  Franklin's  authority,  that,  th 
Latin  and  Creok,  or  the  dead  languages,  are  an  in- 
cumbrance  upon  a  scheme  of  liberal  education,  and 
that  the  ingrafting  or  founding;  a  college,  or  more 
extensive  seminary,  upon  his  academy,  was  with 
out  his  approbation  or  agency,  and  gave  him  dis 
content.  If  the  reverse  of  this  does  not  already  ap 
pear  from  what  has  been  quoted  above,  the  follow 
mg  letters  will  put  the  matter  beyond  dispute. 


102  LIFE  OF 

They  were  written  by  him  to  a  gentleman,  who  had 
at  that  time  published  the  idea  of  a  college,  suited 
t©  the  circumstances  of  a  young  country  (meaning 
New-York)  a  copy  of  which  having  been  sent  to 
Dr.  Franklin  for  his  opinion,  gave  rise  to  that  cor 
respondence  which  terminated  about  a  year  after 
wards,  in  erecting  the  college  upon  the  foundation 
of  the  academy,  and  establishing  that  gentleman  at 
the  head  of  both,  where  he  still  continues,  after  a 
period  of  thirty-six  years,  to  preside  with  distin 
guished  reputation. 

From'these  letters  also,  the  state  of  the  academy, 
at  that  time  will  be  seen. 

"Philad.  April  W,  1753. 
"  SIR, 

"  I  received  your  favour  of  the  llth  instant,  with 
your  new  piece*  on  Education,  which  1  shall  caro- 
fully  peruse,  and  give  you  my  sentiments  of  it,  as  you 
desire,  by  next  post. 

l>>  I  believe  the  young  gentlemen,  your  pupils,  may 
be  entertained  and  instructed  here,  in  mathematics 
and  philosopny*  to  satisfaction.  Mr.  Alisonf  (who 
was  educated  at  Glasgow")  has  been  long  accustomed 
to  teach  the  latter,  anci  Mr.  Grew;  the  former,  and  I 
think  their  pupils  make  great  progress.  Mr.  Alison 
has  the  care  of  the  Latin  and  Greek  school,  but  as  he 
has  now  three  good  assistants,]]  he  can  very  well  af 
ford  some  hours  every  day  for  the  instruction  of  those 
who  are  engaged  in  higher  studies.  The  mathema- 
t'cal  school  is  pretty  well  furnished  with  instruments. 
The  English  library  is  a  good  one ;  and  we  have  be 
longing  to  it  a  middling  apparatus  for  experimental 
liiilosophy,  and  propose  speedily  to  complete  it.  Tht 
Loganian  library,  one  of  the  best  collections  in  Ame« 

*  A  genera!  idea  of  the  college  of  Mirania. 

f  The  Rev.  and  learned  Mr.  Francis  Alisun  afterwards  D.  EH 
and  vice-provost  of  the  college. 

\  T\Jr.  ThaopLilus  Grew,  afterwards  professor  cf  mathematics  h» 
(he  college. 

||  Those  assistant*  were  at  that  time.  Mr.  Charles  Thomson,  lat« 
lecretary  of  congress,  Mr.  Paul  Jacks0  and  Mr.  Jacob  Duchj*. 


DR.  FRANKLIft.  103 

rica,  will  shortly  be  opened ;  so  that  neither  books 
nor  instruments  will  be  wanting  ;  and  as  we  are  de 
termined  always  to  give  good  salaries,  we  have  rea 
son  to  believe  we  may  have  always  an  opportunity  of 
choosing  good  masters  ;  upon  which,  indeed,  the  suc 
cess  of  the  whole  depends.  We  are  obliged  to  you 
for  your  kind  offers  in  this  respect,  and  when  you  are 
settled  in  England,  we  maj-  occasionally  make  use  of 
your  friendship  and  judgment,  " 

"  If  it  suits  your  convenience  to  visit  Philadelphia 
before  you  return  to  Europo,  I  sh^ll  be  extremely 
glad  to  see  and  converse  with  you  here,  as  well  as  to 
correspond  with  you  after  your  settlement  in  England ; 
for  an  acquaintance  and  communication  with  men  of 
learning,  virtue,  and  public  spirit,  is  one  cf  my  great 
est  enjoyments. 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  ycu  ever  happened  to  see 
the  first  proposals  J  made  for  erecting  this  academy. 
I  send  them  inclosed.  They  had  (however  imper 
fect;  the  desired  success,  being  followed  by  a  sub 
scription  of  four  thousand  pounds,  towards  carrying 
them  into  execution.  And  as  we  are  fond  of  receiv 
ing  advice,  and  are  daily  improving  by  experience,  I 
am  in  hopes  we  shall,  in  a  few  years,  see  a  perfect 
institution. 

"  I  am,  very  respectfully,  &c. 

"  B.  FRANKLIN. 

"  Mr.  W.  Smith,  Long  Island." 


"  Philad.  May,  3.  1753. 
"  SIR, 

"  Mr.  Peters  has  just  now  been  with  me,  and  we 
have  compared  no'_3s  on  your  new  piece.  We  find 
nothing  in  the  scheme  of  education,  however  excel 
lent,  but  what  is,  in  our  opinion  very  practicable. 
The  great  difficulty  will  be  to  find  the  Aratus,*  and 
other  suitable  persons,  to  carry  it  into  execution: 

*  The  name  given  to  the  principal  or  head  of  the  ideal  college,  th« 
•Jitem  of  education  in  which  hath   nevertheless  been  nearlj  realized, 
or  followed  M  a  model,  in  th«  college  and  academy  of  Philadelphia! 
fjpd»oin«  other  American  lerninariei  for  teveral  yean  fait 
* 


104  LIFE  OF 

but  such  may  l>e  had  if  proper  encouragement  b<i 
given.  We  have  both  received  great  pleasure  in  the 
perusal  of  it.  For  my  part,  I  know  not  when  I  have 
read  a  piece  that  has  more  affected  me— so  noble 
and  just  are  the  sentimonrs,  so  warm  and  animated 
the  language ;  yet  as  censure  from  your  friends  may 
be  of  more  use,  as  well  as  more  agreeable  to  you  than 
praise,  I  ought  to  mention,  that  I  wish  you  had 
omitted  not  only  the  quotation  from  the  Review,* 
which  you  are  now  justly  dissatisfied  with,  but  thosa 
expressions  of  resentment  against  your  adversaries, 
in  pages  65  and  79.  In  such  cases,  the  noblest  vic 
tory  is  obtained  by  neglect,  and  by  shining  on. 

"Mr.  Allen  has  been  out  of  town  these  ten  days, 
but  before  he  went  he  directed  me  to  procure  him 
six  copies  of  your  piece.  Mr.  Peters  has  taken  ten. 
He  proposed  to  have  written  to  you  ;  but  omits  it,  as 
he  expects  so  soon  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
here.  He  desires  me  to  present  his  affectionate  com 
pliments  to  you,  and  to  assure  you,  that  you  will  be 
very  welcome  to  him.  I  shall  only  say,  that  you  may 
depend  on  rny  doing  all  in  my  power  to  make  youi 
visit  to  Philadelphia  agreeable  to  you. 
"  1  am,  &c. 

"  Mr,  Smith.  "  B.  FRANKLIN." 


"Philad.  JYbt>.  27,  1753. 

"  DEAR  SIR, 

"  Having  written  you  fully,  via  Bristol,  I  have  now 
little  to  add.  Matters  relating  to  the  academy  re 
main  in  statn  quo.  The  trustees  would  be  glad  to 
eee  a  rector  established  thore,  but  they  dread  entering 
nto  new  engagements  till  they  a-e  got  out  of  debt ; 
and  I  have  not  yet  got  them  wholly  over  to  my  opin 
ion,  that  a  good  professor,  or  teacher  of  the 'higher 
branches  of  learning,  would  draw  so  many  scholar* 
as  to  pay  great  part,  if  not  the  whole  of  his  salary. 

*  The  quotation  alluded  to  (  from  the  London  Monthly  Reriew 
for  174'j)  wa»  judged  to  reflect  too  severely  on  the  discipline  and 
government  of  the  English  uniremitiet  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge, 
tod  WM  txpupged  from  th«  following  editipns  of  thil  work. 


Dr.  FRANKLIN.  106 

Thus,  unless  the  proprietors  (of  the  province)  shall 
think  fit  to  put  the  finishing  hand  to  our  institution, 
it  must,  J  fear,  wait  some  few  years  longer  before  it 
can  arrive  at  that  state  of  perfection,  which  to  me  it 
seems  now  capauie  of;  and  all  the  pleasure  I  pro 
mised  myself  in  seeing  you  settled  among  us,  vanish 
es  into  smoke, 

«l  But  good  Mr.  Collinson  writes  me  word,  that  iw 
endeavours  of  his  shall  be  wanting;  and  he  hope* 
with  the  archbishop's  assistance,  to  be  able  to  prevai 
with  c\ir  proprietors.*  I  pray  God  grant  them  euc 
cess. 

>*  M/  son  presents  his  affectionate  regards,  with, 
"  Dear  Sir* yours,  &c. 

"&  FRANKLIN. 

"  V.  S.  I  have  not  been  favoured  with  a  line  from 
ysu  since  your  arrival  in  England." 


"Philad.  April  19,  1754. 

'*  DEAR  SIR, 

44  I  have  had  but  one  letter  from  you  since  your 
arrival  in  England,  which  was  but  a  short  one,  via 
Boston,  dated  October  18th,  acquainting  rne  that 
you  had  written  largely  by  Captain  Davis. — Davis 
was  lost,  and  with  him  your  letters,  to  my  great  dis 
appointment. — Mesnard  and  Gibbon  have  since  ar 
rived  here,  and  1  hear  nothing  from  you.  My  com 
fort  is,  an  imagination  that  you  only  omit  writing 
because  you  are  coming,  ami  propose  to  tell  me  every 
thing  viva  voce.  iSo  not  knowing  whether  this  letter 
will  reacn  you,  and  hoping  either  to  see  or  hear  from 
you  by  the  Myrtilla,  Captain  Budden's  ship,  which 
is  daily  expected,  I  only  add,  that  I  am,  with  great 
esteem  and  affection, 

"Yours,  &c. 

"  Mr.  Smith.  «  B.  FRANKLIN." 


*  Upon  tLe  application  of  Archbuhup  Herring  and  P.  Colhruou, 
Eiqr.  at  Dr.  Franklin's  request  (aided  by  the  letter*  of  Mr  Allan 
and  Mr  Peters,)  the  honourable  Thomas  Penn,  Etqr.  lubicribed  an 
annual  sMin,  and  Afterwards  gave  at  least  50001.  to  tiv»  foundicg  ortn» 
e  collect  Mpoo  the  **--J«uf|r 


106  LIFE  OF 

About  a  month  after  the  date  of  this  last  letter,  tne 
gentleman  to  whom  it  was  addressed  arrived  in  Phi 
ladelphia,  and  was  immediately  placed  at  the  head 
of  the  seminary  ;  whereby  Dr.  Franklin  and  the  other 
trustees  were  enabled  to  prosecute  their  plan,  for  per 
fecting  the  institution,  and  opening  the  college  upon 
the  large  and  liberal  foundation  on  which  it  now 
stands;  for  which  purpose  they  obtained  their  addi 
tional  charter,  dated  May  27th,  1755. 

Thus  far  we  thought  it  proper  to  exhibit  in  one 
riew  Dr.  Franklin's  services  in  the  foundation  and 
establishment  of  this  scminavy.  He  soon  afterwards 
embarked  for  England,  in  the  public  service  of  his 
country ;  and  bavin?  been  generally  eroplo}red 
abroad,  in  the  like  service,  for  the  greatest  part  of 
the  remainder  of  his  life  (as  will  appeal  in  our  sub 
sequent  account  of  the  same)  he  had  but  few  op 
portunities  of  taking  any  further  active  part  in  the 
affairs  of  {the  seminary,  until  his  final  return  in  the 
year  1785,  when  he  foiuid  its  cnarters  violated,  and 
his  ancient  colleagues,  the  original  founders,  deprived 
of  their  trust  by  "an  act  of  the  legislature ;  and  al 
though  his  own  name  had  bem  inserted  amongst  the 
new  trustees,  yet  he  declined  to  take  his  seat  among 
them,  or  any  concern  in  the  management  of  their  af 
fairs,  till  the  institution  was  restored  by  law  to  its 
original  owners.  He  then  assembled  his  old  col 
leagues  at  his  *~"ii  house,  and  being  chosen  their  pre 
sident,  all  their  future  meetings,  were  at  his  request, 
held  there,  till  within  a  few  months  of  his  death.,  when 
with  reluctance,  and  at  their  desire,  lest  h«  might  be 
too  much  injured  by  his  attention  to  their  business, 
he  suffered  them  to  meet  at  the  college. 

Franklin  not  only  gave  birth  to  many  useful  insti- 
utions  himself,  but" he  was  also  instrumental  in  pro 
moting  those  which  had  originated  with  other  men. 
About  the  year  1752,  an  eminent  physician  of  this 
city,  Dr.  Bond,  considering  the  deplorable  state  of  the 
poor,  when  visited  with  disease,  conceived  the  idea 
of  establishing  an  hospital.  Notwithstanding  very 
great  exertions  on  his  part,  he  was  able  to  interest 
few  people  so  far  in  his  benevolent  plan,  as  to  ohtain 
subscriptions  from  them.  Unwilling  that  his  scheme 


Da  FRANKLIN.  107 

should  prove  abortive,  he  sought  the  aid  of  Franklin, 
wlio  readily  engaged  in  the  business,  both  by  using 
his  influence  with  his  friends,  and  by  stating  the  ad 
vantageous  influence  cf  the  proposed  institution  in 
his  paper.  These  efforts  were  attended  with  success. 
Considerable  sums  were  subscribed ;  but  they  were 
still  short  of  what  was  necessary.  Franklin  now 
made  another  exertion.  He  applied  to  the  Assembly ; 
and,  after  some  opposition,  obtained  leave  to  bring 
in  a  bi'l,  specifying,  that  as  soon  as  two  thousand 
pounds  were  subscribed,  the  same  sum  should  bo 
drawn  from  the  treasury  by  the  speaker's  warrant, 
Jo  be  applied  to  the  purposes  of  the  institution.  The 
Apposition,  as  the  sum  was  granted  upon  a  contin 
gency,  which  they  supposed  would  never  take  place, 
were  silent,  and  the  bill  passed.  The  friends  of  the 
plan  now  redoubled  their  efforts,  to  obtain  subscrip 
tions  to  the  amount  stated  in  the  bill,  and  were  soon 
successful.  This  was  the  foundation  of  the  Penn 
sylvania  Hospital, which,  with  the  BetteringHouseand 
Dispensary,  bears  ample  testimony  of  the  humanity 
of  the  citizens  of  Philadelphia. 

Dr.  Franklin  had  conducted  himself  so  well  in  the 
office  of  post-master,  and  had  shown  himself  to  be  so 
well  acquainted  with  the  business  of  that  department, 
that  it  was  thought  expedient  to  raise  him  to  a  more 
dignified  station,  In  1753  he  was  appointed  deputy 
post-master  general  for  the  British  colonies.  The 
profits  arising  from  the  postage  of  letters  formed  no 
inconsiderable  part  of  the  revenue,  which  the  crown 
of  Great  Britain  derived  from  these  colonies.  In  the 
har.ds  of  Franklin,  it  is  said,  that  the  post-office  in 
America  yielded  annually  thrice  as  much  as  that 
of  Ireland. 

The  American  colonies  were  much  exposed  to 
depredations  on  their  frontiers  by  the  Indians;  and 
more  particularly,  whenever  a  war  took  place  be 
tween  France  and  England.  The  colonies,  individu 
ally,  were  either  too  weak  to  take  efficient  measure! 
for  their  own  defence,  or  they  were  unwilling  to  take 
upon  themselves  the  -vhole  burden  of  erccfiiy;  fortt 
and  maintaining  garn>*..is  "'hil**  thoir  neighbours, 
who  partook  equally  with  tnemseives  of  the  advaa- 
5  * 


100  LIFE  0^- 

tages,  contributed  nothing  to  the  expense.  Some* 
times  also  the  disputes,  which  subsisted  between  the 
£overra>rs  and  the  assemblies,  prevented  the  adop 
tion  of  means  of  defence ;  as  we  have  seen  was  the 
case  in  Pennsylvania  in  1745.  To  devise  a  plan  of 
union  between  the  colonies,  to  regulate  this  and  other 
matters,  appeared  a  desirable  object.  To  accom 
plish  this,  fn  the  year  1754,  commissioners  from  New 
Hampshire,  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island,  New  Jer 
sey,  Pennsylvania,  and  Maryland,  met  at  Albany 
Dr.  Franklin  attended  here,  as  a  commissioner  from 
Pennsylvania,  and  produced  a  plan,  which  from  the 
place  of  meeting,  has  been  usually  termed,  "  The 
Albany  Plan  of  Union!"  This  propvjsed,  that  applU 
cation  should  be  made  for  an  act  of  parliament,  to 
establish  in  the  colonies  a  general  government,  to  be 
administered  by  a  president-general,  appointed  by 
we  crown,  and  by  a  grand  council,  consisting  ol 
members,  chosen  by  the  representatives  of  the  differ 
ent  colonies  ;  their  number  to  be  in  direct  proportion 
to  the  sums  paid  by  each  colony  into  the  general 
treasury,  with  this  restriction,  that  no  colony  should 
have  more  than  seven,  nor  less  than  two  representa 
tives.  The  whole  executive  authority  was  commit 
ted  to  the  president-general.  The  power  of  legisla 
tion  was  lodged  in  the  grand  council  and  the  pres\ 
dent-general  jointly ;  his  consent  being  made  neces 
sary  to  passing  a  bill  into  a  law.  The  power  vested 
in  the  president  and  council  was,  to  declare  war  and 
peace,  and  to  conclude  treaties  with  the  Indian  na 
tions  ;  to  regulate  trade  with,  and  to  make  purchases 
nf  vacant  lands  from  them,  either  in  the  name  of  the 
crown,  or  of  the  union ;  to  settle  new  colonies,  to 
make  laws  for  governing  these,  until  they  should  be 
erected  into  separate  governments;  and  to  raise 
troops,  build  sorts,  and  fit  otit  armed  vessels,  and  to 
use  other  moans  for  the  general  defence  ;  and,  to  ef 
fect  these  things,  a  power  was  given  to  make  Jaws, 
laying  such  duties,  imposts,  or  taxes,  as  they  should 
find  necessary,  and  as  would  be  least  burdensome  to 
to  the  people*.  All  laws  were  to  be  sent  to  England 
for  the  king  s  approbation  ;  and,  unless  disapproved 
of  within- three  years,  were  to  remain  in  force.  Al! 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  109 

officers  of  the  land  or  sea  service  were  to  he  nomin 
ated  by  the  president-general,  and  approved  of  by 
the  general  council ;  civil  officers  were  to  be  nomi 
nated  by  the  council,  and  approved  of  by  the  presi 
dent.  Such  are  the  outlines  of  the  plan  proposed, 
for  the  consideration  of  the  congress,  by  Dr.  Franklin. 
After  several  days  discussion,  it  was  unanimously 
agreed  to  by  the  commissioners,  a  copy  transmitted 
to  each  assembly,  and  one  to  the  king's  council.  Tha 
fete  of  it  was  singular.  It  was  disapproved  of  by 
the  ministry  of  Great  Britain,  because  it  gave  too 
much  power  to  the  representatives  of  the  people  ;  and  * 
it  was  rejected  by  every  assembly,  as  giving  to  tha 
president-general,  the  representative  of  the  crown, 
an  influence  greater  than  appeared  to  them  proper, 
in  a  plan  of  government  intended  for  freemen.  Per 
haps  this  rejection,  on  both  siij.es,  is  the  strongest 
proof  that  could  be  adduced  of  the  excellence  of  it, 
as  suited  to  the  situation  of  America  and  Great  Bri 
tain  at  that  time.  It  appears  to  have  steered  exactly 
in  the  middle,  between  the  opposite  interests  of  both. 
Whether  the  adoption  of  this  plan  would  have  pre 
vented  the  separation  of  America  from  Great  Britain* 
is  a  question  which  mi^ht  ali^rd  much  room  for  spe 
culation.  It  may  be  said,  that,  by  enabling  the  colo 
nies  to  defend  themselves,  it  would  have  removed  tho 
pretext  upon  which  the  stamp  act,  tea-act,  and  other 
acts  of  the  British  parliament,  were  passed;  which 
excited  a  spirit  of  opposition,  and  laid  the  founda 
tion  for  the  separation  of  the  two  countries.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  restric 
tion  laid  by  Great  Britain  upon  our  commerce,  oblig 
ing  us  to  sell  our  produce  to  her  citizens  only,  and  to 
take  from  them  various  articles,  of  which,  as  our 
manufacturers  were  discouraged,  we  stood  in  need, 
at  a  price  greater  than  that  for  which  they  could 
have  been  obtained  from  other  nations,  must  inCVR 
tably  produce  dissatisfaction,  even  though  no  duties  * 
were  imposed  by  the  parliament ;  a  circumstance 
which  might  still  have  taken  place.  Besides,  as  the 
president-general  was  to  be  appointed  by  the  crown, 
he  must,  of  necessity,  be  devoted  to  its  views,  ami 
would,  therefore,  refuse  to  assent  to  any  laws,  how* 


110  LtFfc  OF 

ey-51  salutary  to  the  community,  which  had  the  most 
remote  tendency  to  injure  the  interests  of  his  sover 
eign.  Even  should  they  receive  his  assent,  the  ap 
probation  of  the  king  was  to  be  necessary ;  who  would 
indubitably,  in  every  instance,  prefer  the  advantage 
of  his  own  dominions  to  that  of  his  own  colonies. 
Hence  would  ensue  perpetual  disagreements  between 
the  council  and  the  president-general,  and  thus  be 
tween  the  people  of  America  and  the  crown  of  Great 
Britain:  while  the  colonies  continued  weak,  they 
trould  be  obliged  to  submit,  and  as  soon  as  they  ac 
quired  strength,  they  would  become  more  urgent  in 
their  demands,  until,  at  length,  they  would  shake  ofl 
ihe  yoke,  and  declare  themselves  independent. 

Whilst  the  French  were  in  possession  of  Canada, 
their  trade  with  the  natives  extended  very  far :  even 
to  the  back  of  the  British  settlements.  They  were 
disposed,  from  time  to  time,  to  establish  posts  within 
the  territory,  which  the  English  claimed  as  their  own. 
Independent  of  the  injury  to  the  fur  trade,  which  was 
considerable,  the  colonies  suffered  this  further  incon 
venience,  that  the  Indians  were  frequently  instigated 
to  commit  depredations  on  their  frontiers.  In  the 
year  1 753,  encroachments  were  made  upon  the  boun 
daries  of  Virginia.  Remonstrances  had  no  effect.  In 
the  ensuing  year,  a  body  of  men  were  sent  out  under 
the  command  of  Mr.  Washington,  who,  though  a  very 
young  man,  had  by  his  conduct  in  the  preceding  year, 
shown  himself  worthy  of  such  an  important  trust.-— 
;  Whilst  marching  to  take  possession  of  the  post  at  the 
junction  of  the  Allegany  and  Monongahela,  he  was 
informed  that  the  French  had  already  erected  a  fort 
there.  A  detachment  of  their  men  inarched  against 
him.  He  fortified  himself  as  strongly  as  time  and 
circumstances  would  admit.  A  superiority  of  nuni 
bers  soon  compelled  him  to  surrender  Fort  Necessity 
He  obtained  honourable  tenns  for  himself  and  men, 
and  returned  to  Virginia.  The  government  of  Great 
Britain  now  thought  it  necessary  to  interfere.  In  the 
year  1755,  General  Braddock,  with  some  regiments 
of  regular  troops  and  provincial  levies,  was  sent  to 
dispossess  the  Frencli  of  the  post  upon  which  they 
seized.  After  the  men  were  all  ready,  a  difficui- 


DR.  FKANKLIN.  Ill 

ty  occurred,  which  had  nearly  prevented  the  expe 
dition.  This  was  the  want  of  waggons.  Franklin 
now  stepped  forward,  and  with  the  assistance  of  his 
son,  in  a  little  time  procured  a  hundred  and  fifty. 
Braddock  unfortunately  fell  into  an  ambuscade,  and 
^rished,  with  a  number  of  his  men.  Washington, 
who  had  accompanied  him  as  an  aid-de-camp,  and 
had  warned  him,  in  vain  of  his  danger,  now  display 
ed  great  military  talents  in  affecting  a  retreat  of  the 
remains  of  the  arm}7,  and  in  forming  a  junction  with 
the  rear,  under  colonel  Dunbar,  upon  whom  tha 
chief  command  now  devolved.  With  some  difficulty 
they  brought  their  little  body  to  a  place  of  safety,  but 
they  found  it  necessary  to  destroy  their  waggons  and 
baggage,  to  prevent  them  from  falling  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy.  For  the  waggons  which  he  had  fur 
nished,  Franklin  had  given  bonds  to  a  large  amount 
The  owners  declared  their  intention  of  obliging  him 
to  make  a  restitution  of  their  property.  Had  they 
put  their  threats  in  execution,  ruin  must  inevitably 
have  been  the  consequence.  Governor  Shirley,  findr 
ing  that  he  had  incurred  those  debts  for  the  service  of 
government,  made  arrangements  to  have  them  dis 
charged,  and  released  Franklin  from  his  disagreeable 
situation. 

The  alarm  spread  through  the  colonies,  after  the 
defeat  of  Braddock,  was  very  great.  Preparations 
to  arm  were  every  where  made.  In  Pennsylvania, 
the  prevalence,  of  the  quaker  interest  prevented  the 
adoption  of  any  system  of  defence,  which  would 
compel  the  citizens  to  bear  arms.  Franklin  introduc 
ed  into  the  Assembly  a  bill  for  organizing  a  militia, 
by  which  every  man  was  allowed  to  lake  arms  Oi:  not, 
as  to  him  should  appear  fit.  The  quakers,  being 
bus  left  at  liberty,  suffered  the  bill  to  pass:  for  al- 
hough  their  principles  would  not  suffer  them  to  fight, 
Ihey  had  no  objection  to  their  neighbours  fighting  for 
them.  In  consequence  of  this  act  a  very  respectable 
militia  was  formed.  The  sense  of  impending  danger 
infused  a  military  spirit  in  all,  whose  religious  tenets 
were  not  opposed  to  war.  Franklin  was  appointed 
colonel  of  a  regiment  in  Philadelphia,  which  con 
sisted  of  1200  men. 


in  ufrfc  OF 

The  north-western  frontier  being  invaded  by  tfie 
enemy,  it  became  necessary  to  adopt  measures  foi 
its  defence.  Franklin  was  directed  by  the  Govern 
or  to  take  charge  of  this.  A  power  of  raising  menj 
and  of  appointing  officers  to  command  them,  was 
vested  in  him.  He  soon  levied  a  body  oi  troops, 
with  which  he  repaired  to  the  place  at  which  their 
presence  was  necessary.  Here  he  built  a  fort,  and 
traced  the  garrison  in  such  a  posture  of  defence,  as 
would  enable  them  to  withstand  the  inroads,  to  which 
he  inhabitants  had  been  previously  exposed.  He 
remained  here  for  some  time,  in  oider  the  more  com 
pletely  to  discharge  the  trust  committted  to  him. 
Some  business  of  importance  at  length  rendered  his 
presence  necessary  in  the  Assembly,  and  he  returned 
to  Philadelphia. 

TITfe  defence  of  her  colonies  was  a  great  expense 
to  Great  Britain.  The  most  effectual  mode  of  lessen 
ing  this  was,  to  put  arms  into  the  hands  of  the  inha 
bitants,  and  to  teach  them  their  use.  But  England 
wished  not  that  the  Americans  should  become  ac- 
quainteu  with  their  own  strength.  She  was  appre 
hensive,  that,  as  soon  as  this  period  arrived,  they 
would  no  longer  submit  to  that  monopoly  of  their 
trade,  which  to  them  was  highly  injurious,  but  ex 
tremely  advantageous  to  the  mother  country.  In 
comparison  »vith  the  profits  of  this,  the  expense  of 
maintaining  Armies  and  fleets  to  defend  them  waj 
trifling.  Slit  fought  to  keep  them  dependent  upon 
her  for  protection  ;  the  best  plan  which  could  be  de 
vised  for  retaining  them  in  peaceable  subjection 
The  least  appearance  of  a  military  spirit  was  there 
fore  10  be  gus  rded  against ;  and  although  a  war  the* 
raged,  the  act  of  organizing  a  militia  was  disapproved' 
of  by  the  ministry.  The  regiments  which  had  beei< 
formed  uncle/  it  were  disbanded,  and  the  defence  of 
the  province  entrusted  to  regular  troops. 

The  disputes  between  the  proprietaries  and  th« 
people  continued  in  full  force,  although  a  war  wai 
raging  on  trv.i  frontiers.  Not  even  the  sense  of  dan 
ger  was  sjfTicient  to  reconcile,  for  ever  so  short  a 
time,  their  jarring  interests.  The  Assembly  still  in- 
sisted  up<,n  the  justice  of  taxing  the  proprietary  es- 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  US 

tales,  but  the  governors  constantly  refused  their  as 
sent  to  this  measure,  without  which  no  bill  could  pass 
into  a  law.  Enraged  at  the  obstinacy,  and  what 
they  conceived  to  be  unjust  proceedings  of  their  op 
ponents,  the  Assembly  at  length  determined  to  ap 
ply  to  the  mother-country  for  relief.  A  petition  was 
addressed  to  the  king,  in  council,  stating  the  incon 
veniences  under  which  the  inhabitants  laboured, 
from  the  attention  of  the  proprietaries  to  their  private 
nterests,  to  the  neglect  of  the  general  welfare  of  th 
community,  and  praying  for  redress.  Franklin  wa* 
appointed  to  present  this  address,  as  ag"ent  for  tie 
province  rf  Pennsylvania,  and  departed  from  Ame 
rica  in  June,  1757.  In  conformity  to  the  instructions 
which  he  had  icceived  from  the  legislature,  he  held 
a  conference  with  the  proprietaries  who  then  resided 
in  England,  aad  endeavoured  to  prevail  upon  them 
to  give  up  the  long-contested  point.  Finding  that  they 
would  hearken  to  no  terms  of  accommodation,  he  laid 
his  petition  before  the  council.  During  this  time  Gov 
ernor  Denny  assented  to  a  law  imposing  a  tax,  in  which 
no  discrimination  was  made  in  favour  of  the  estates 
of  the.  Penn  family.  They,  alarmed  at  this  in 
telligence,  and  Franklin's  exertions,  used  their  utmost 
endeavours  to  prevent  the  royal  sanction  being  given 
to  this  law,  which  they  represented  as  highly  iniquit 
ous,  designed  to  throw  the  burden  of  supporting  go 
vernment  u/»on  them,  and  calculated  to  produce  the 
most  ruino'ie  consequences  to  them  and  their  poste 
rity.  The  cause  was  amply  discussed  before  the 
privy  council.  The  Penny  found  here  some  strenu 
ous  advocates ;  nor  were  there  wanting  some  wh« 
warmly  es}»oused  the  side  of  the  people.  After  some 
time  spen'  in  debate,  a  proposal  was  made,  tha 
Franklin  should  solemnly  engage,  tnat  the  assess 
ment  of  t'.ie  tax  should  be  so  made,  as  that  the  pro 
prietary  estates  should  pay  no  more  than  a  due  pro 
portion.  Tliis  he  agreed  to  perform,  the  Pei.n  fami 
ly  withdrew  their  opposition,  and  tranquillity  WHS 
thus  once  more  restored  to  the  province. 

The  mode  in  which  this  dispute  was  terminated, 
is  a  striking  proof  of  the  high  opinion  enteitained  o1 
Franklin's  integrity  and  honour,  even  by  those  who 


114  LU*E  OF 

considered  him  as  inimical  to  their  views.  Nor  was 
their  confidence  ill-founded.  The  assessment  was 
made  upon  the  strictest  principle  of  equity  ;  and  the 
proprietary  estates  bore  only  a  proportionable  share 
of  the  expenses  of  supporting  government. 

After  the  completion  of  this  important  business, 
Franklin  remained  at  the  court  of  Great  Britain,  as 
agent  for  the  province  of  Pennsylvania.  The  exten 
sive  knowledge  which  he  possessed  of  the  situation  of 
the  colonies,  and  the  regard  which  he  always  mani 
fested  for  their  interests,  occasioned  his  appointment 
to  the  same  office  by  the  colonies  of  Massachusetts, 
Maryland,  and  Georgia.  His  conduct,  in  this  situa 
tion  was  such  as  rendered  him  still  more  dear  to  hij 
countrymen. 

He  had  now  an  opportunity  of  indulging  in  the  so 
ciety  of  those  friends,  whom  his  merits  had  procured 
him  while  at  a  distance.  The  regard  which  they  had 
entertained  for  him  was  rather  increased  by  a  perso 
nal  acquaintance.  The  opposition  which  had  been 
made  to  his  dicoveries  in  philosophy  gradually  ceas 
ed,  and  the  rewards  of  literary  merit  were  abundant 
ly  conferred  upon  him.  The  Royal  Society  of  Lon 
don,  which  had  at  first  refused  his  performances  ad 
mission  into  its  transactions,  now  thought  it  an  ho 
nour  to  rank  him  amongst  its  fellows.  Other  so- 
scieties  of  Europe  were  equally  ambitious  of  calling 
him  a  membe*-.  The  university  of  St.  Andrew's,  in 
Scotland  conferred  upon  him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Laws.  Its  example  was  followed  by  the  universi 
ties  of  Edinburgh  and  Oxford.  His  correspondence 
was  sought  for  by  the  most  eminent  philosophers  of 
Europe.  His  letters  to  these  abound  with  true 
science,  delivered  in  the  most  simple  unadorned 
manner. 

The  province  of  Canada  was  at  this  t'me  in  the 
possession  of  the  French,  who  had  originally  settled 
A.  The  trade  with  the  Indians,  for  which  its  situa 
tion  was  very  convenient,  was  exceedingly  luora* 
l»(/e.  The  French  traders  here  found  a  market  fof 
t'neir  commodities,  and  received  in  return  large 
quantities  of  rich  furs,  which  they  disposed  of  at  a 
liigh  price  in  Europe.  Whilst  the  possession  of  thii 


Dr.  FRANKLIN.  115 

country  was  highly  advantageous  to  France,  it  was 
a  grievous  inconvenience  to  the  inhabitants  of  the 
British  colonies.  The  Indians  were  almost  gene 
rally  desirous  to  cultivate  the  friendship  of  the 
French,  by  whom  they  were  abundantly  supplied 
with  arms  and  ammunition.  Whenever  a  war  hap 
pened,  the  Indians  were  ready  to  fall  upon  the 
frontiers :  this  they  frequently  did,  even  when 
Great  Britain  and  France  were  at  peace.  From  these 
i  considerations,  it  appeared  to  be  the  interest  of  Grea 
Britain  to  gain  the  possession  of  Canada.  But  th 
\  importance  of  such  an  acquisition  was  not  well  un 
'  derstood  in  England.  Franklin  about  this  time  pub- 
lished  his  Canada  pamphlet,  in  which  he,  in  a  very 
forcible  manner,  pointed  out  the  advantages  which 
would  result  from  the  conquest  of  this  province. 

An  expedition  against  it  was  planned,  and  the  com 
mand  given  to  General  Wolfe.  His  success  is  well 
knoxvn.  At  the  treaty  in  17H2,  France  ceded  Cana 
da  to  Great  Britain,  and  by  her  cession  of  Louisiana, 
at  the  same  time,  relinquished  all  her  possessions  on 
the  continent  of  America. 

Although  Dr.  Franklin  was  now  principally  occu 
pied  with  political  pu/suits,  he  found  time  for  philo 
sophical  studies.  He  extended  his  electrical  re 
searches,  and  made  a  variety  of  experiments,  particu 
larly  on  the  tourmalin.  The  singular  properties 
which  this  stone  possesses,  of  being  electrified  on  one 
side  positively,  and  on  the  other  negatively,  by  heat 
alone,  without  friction,  had  been  but  lately  observed. 
Some  experiment?  on  the  cold  produced  by  evapo 
ration,  made  by  Dr.  Cullen,  had  been  communicated 
to  Dr.  Franklin,  by  Professor  Simpson,  of  Glasgow. 
These  he  repeated,  and  found,  that,  by  the  evapora 
tion  of  either  in  the  exhausted  receiver  of  an  air- 
pump,  so  great  a  degree  of  cold  was  produceu  in  a 
summer's  day,  that  \va.ter  was  converted  into  ice. 
This  discovery  he  applied  to  the  solution  of  a  number 
of  phenomena,  particularly  a  singular  fact,  which 
philosophers  had  endeavoured  in  vain  to  account  for, 
vi"5.  that  the  temperature  of  the  human  body,  when 
in  health,  never  exceeds  96  degress  of  Fahrenheit's 
thermometer,  although  the  Atmosphere  which  sur- 


116  LIFE  OF 

rounds  it  may  be  heated  to  a  much  greater  degree. 
This  he  attributed  to  the  increased  perspiration,  and 
consequent  evaporation,  produced  bvthe  heat. 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Small,  of  London,  nated  in  May, 
1760,  Dr.  Franklin  makes  a  number  of  observations, 
tending  to  show  that,  in  North  America,  north-east 
storms  begin  in  the  south-west  parts.  It  appears, 
from  actual  observations,  that  a  north-east  storm* 
Which  extended  a  considerable  distance,  commenced 
at  Philadelphia  nearly  four  hours  before  it  was  felt 
at  Boston. — He  endeavoured  to  account,  for  this,  by 
supposing  that,  from  heat,  some  rare  fraction  takes 
place  about  the  gulph  of  Mexico,  that  the  air  further 
north  being  cooler  rushes  in,  and  is  succeeded  by  the 
cooler  and  denser  air  still  farther  north,  and  that  tint? 
a  continued  current  is  at  length  produced. 

The  tone  produced  by  rubbing  the  brim  of  a  drink- 
ing-glass  with  a  wet  finger'had  been  generally  known. 
A  Mr.  Puckeridge,  an  Irishman,  by  placing  on  a  table 
a  number  of  glasses  of  different  sizes,  and  tuning 
them  by  partly  filling  them  with  water,  endeavoured 
to  form  an  instrument  capable  of  playing  tunes.  He 
was  prevented,  by  an  untimely  end,  from  bringing 
his  invention  to  any  degree  ol  perfection.  After  his 
death  some  improvements  were  made  upon  his  plan. 
The  sweetness  of  the  tones  induced  Dr  Franklin  to 
make  a  variety  of  experiments ;  and  he  at  length 
formed  the  elegant  instrument,  which  he  has  called 
the  Armonica. 

In  the  summer  of  1762,  he  returned  to  America. 
On  his  passage  he  observed  the  singular  effect  pro 
duced  by  the  agitation  of  a  vessel,  containing  oil 
floating  on  water.  The  surface,  of  the  oil  remains 
smooth  and  undisturbed,  whilst  the  water  is  agitated 
with  the  utmost  commotion.  No  satisfactory  expla 
nation  of  this  appearance  has,  we  believe,  ever  been 
given. 

Dr.  Franklin  received  the  thanks  of  the  Assembly 
of  Pennsylvania,  "  as  well  for  the  faithful  discharge 
of  his  duty  to  that  province  in  particular,  as  for  the 
many  and  important  services  done  to  America  in 
general,  during  his  residence  in  Great  Britain."  A 
of  500$.  Pennsylvania  currency. 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  lit 

was  also  decreed  him  for  his  services  during  six 
years. 

During  his  absence  he  had  been  annually  elected 
member  of  the  Assembly.  On  his  return  to  Penn 
sylvania  he  again  look  his  seat  in  this  body,  and  con 
tinued  a  steady  defender  of  the  liberties  of  the  people. 
In  December,  1762,  a  circumstance  which  caused 
great  alaini  in  the  province  took  place.  A  number 
of  Indiana  had  resided  in  the  county  of  Lancaster 
and  conducted  themselves  uniformly  as  friends  t 
the  white  inhabitants.  Repeated  depredations  nn 
the  frontiers  had  exasperated  the  inhabitants  to  such 
a  degree,  that  they  determined  on  revenge  upon 
every  Indian.  A  number.of  persons,  to  the  amount 
of  about  120,  principally  inhabitants  of  Donegal  and 
Peckstangor  Paxton  township,  in  the  county  of  York, 
assembled ;  and,  mounted  on  horseback,  proceeded 
to  the  settlement  of  these  harmless  and  defenceless 
Indians,  whose  number  had  now  been  i  educed  to 
about  twenty.  The  Indians  received  intelligence  of 
the  attack  which  was  intended  against  them,  but 
disbelieved  it.  Considering  the  white  people  as  their 
friends,  they  apprehended  no  danger  from  them.— 
When  the  party  arrived  at  the  Indian  settlement, 
they  found  only  some  women  and  children,  and  a 
few  old  men,  the  rest  being  absent  at  work.  They 
murdered  all  whom  they  found,  and  amongst  others 
the  chief  Shaheas,  who  had  been  a^'^ys  distinguish 
ed  for  his  friendship  to  the  whites.  This  bloody 
deed  excited  much  indignation  in  the  well-disposed 
part  of  the  community. 

The  remainder  of  these  unfortunate  Indians,  who 
by  absence,  had  escaped  the  massacre,  were  con 
ducted  to  Lancaster,  and  lodged  in  the  goal  as  a 
ylace  of  security.  The  Governor  issued  a  proclama 
tion,  expressing  the  strongest  disapprobation  of  tit 
action,  offering  a  reward  for  the  discovery  of  the 
perpetrators  of  the  deed,  and  prohibiting  all  injuriet 
to  the  paaceable  Indians  in  future.  But,  notwith 
standing  this,  a  party  of  the  same  men  shortly  a fiei 
inarched  to  Lancaster,  broke  open  the  goal,  an;)  in 
humanly  butchered  the  innocent  Indians  who  had 
been  placed  there  for  security.  Another 


118  LIFE  OF 

tion  was  issued,  but  it  had  no  effect.  A  detachment 
inarched  down  to  Philadelphia,  for  the  express  pur 
pose  of  murdering  some  friendly  Indians,  who  had 
beer,  removed  to  the  city  for  safety.  A  number  of 
citizens  armed  in  their  defence.  Thequakers,  whose 
principles  are  opposed  to  fighting,  even  in  their  own 
defence,  were  most  active  upon  this  occasion.  The 
rioters  came  to  Germantown.  The  Governor  fled 
for  safety  to  the  house  of  Dr.  Franklin,  who,  with 
some  others,  advanced  to  meet  the  Paxton  boys,  a  * 
they  were  called,  and  had  influence  enough  to  pre  » 
vail  upon  them  to  relinquish  their  undertaking,  and 
return  to  their  homes.  * 

The  disputes  between  the  proprietaries  and  the 
Assembly,  which,  for  a  time  had  subsided,  were 
again  revived.  The  proprietaries  were  dissatisfied 
with  the  concessions  made  in  favour  of  the  people, 
and  made  great  struggles  TO  recover  the  privilege  of 
exempting  their  estates  from  taxation,  which  they 
had  been  induced  to  give  up. 

Jn  1763,  the  Assembly  passed  a  militia  bill,  to 
which  the  Governor  refused  to  give  his  assent,  unless 
the  Assembly  would  agree  to  certain  amendments 
which  he  proposed.  These  consisted  in  increasing 
the  fines ;  and  in  some  cases,  substituting  death  for 
fines.  He  wished  too,  that  the  officers  should  be 
appointed  altogether  by  himself,  and  not  be  nomin 
ated  by  the  people,  as  the  bill  had  proposed.  These 
amendments  the  Assembly  considered  as  hiconsist 
ent  with  the  spirit  of  liberty.  They  would  no* 
adopt  them ;  the  Governor  was  obstinate,  and  the 
bill  was  lost.  i 

These,  and  various  other  circumstances,  increas 
ed  the  uneasiness  which  subsisted  between  the  pro 
prietaries  and  the  Assembly,  to  such  a  degree,  tha 
in  1764V  a  petition  to  the  King  was  agreed  to  by  th 
house,  praying  an  alteration  from  a  proprietary  to  a 
regal  government.  Great  opposition  was  made  to 
this  measure,  not  only  in  the  house,  but  in  the  pub- 
lie  prints.  A  speech  of  Mr.  Dickenson,  on  the  sun. 
ject,  was  published,  with  a  preface  by  Dr.  Smith,  ip 
which  great  pains  were  taken  to  show  the  impro 
priety  and  impolicy  of  this  proceeding.  A  speech  o( 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  119 

Mr.  Dickenson,  on  the  subject,  was  published,  with 
a  preface  by  Dr.  Smith,  in  which  great  pains  were 
taken  to  shew  the  impropriety  and  impolicy  of  this 
{proceeding.  A  speech  of  Mr.  Galloway,  in  reply  to 
Mr.  Dickenson,  was  published,  accompanied  with  a 
preface  by  Dr.  Franklin ;  in  which  he  ably  opposed 
the  principles  laid  down  in  the  preface  to  Mr.  Dick- 
enson's  speech.  This  application  to  the  throne  pro 
duced  no  effect.  The  proprietary  government  was 
itill  continued. 

At  the  election  for  a  new  Assembly,  in  the  fall  of 
1764,  the  friends  of  the  proprietaries  made  great  ex 
ertions  to  exclude  those  of  the  adverse  party  ;  and 
they  obtained  a  small  majority  in  the  city  oi  Phila 
delphia.  Franklin  now  lost  his  seat  in  the  house, 
which  he  had  held  for  fourteen  years.  On  the  meet 
ing  of  the  Assembly,  it  appeared  that  there  was  still 
a  decided  majority  of  Franklin's  friends.  He  was 
immediately  appointed  provincial  agent,  to  the  great 
chagrin  of  his  enemies,  who  made  a  solemn  protest 
against  his  appointment ;  which  was  refused  admis 
sion  upon  the  minutes,  as  being  unprecedented.  It 
was,  however,  published  in  the  papers,  and  produced 
a  spirited  reply  from  him,  just  before  his  departure 
for  England. 

The  disturbances  produced  in  America  by  Mr. 
Grenville's  stamp  act,  and  the  opposition  made  to  it, 
are  well  known.  Under  the  Marquis  of  Rocking- 
ham's  administration,  it  appeared  expedient  to  en 
deavour  to  calm  the  minds  of  the  colonists ;  and  the 
repeal  of  the  odious  tax  was  contemplated.  Amongst 
other  means  of  collecting  information  on  the  dispo-  j 
sition  of  the  people  to  submit  to  it,  Dr.  Franklin 
was  called  to  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Commons. — 
The  examination  which  he  here  underwent  was 
published,  and  contains  a  striking  proof  of  live  extent 
and  accuracy  of  his  information,  and  the  facility 
with  which  he  communkaieol  his  sentiments.  He 
represented  facts  in  so  strong  a  point  of  view,  that  the 
inexpediency  of  the  act  must  have  appeared  clear  to 
every  unprejudiced  mind.  The  act,  after  some  op- 
posit'on,  was  repealed,  about  a  year  after  it  was  eu- 


LIFE  OF- 

acted,   and   before  it  had  ever  been  carried  into 
execution. 

In  the  year  1776,  he  made  a  visit  to  Holland  and 
Germany,  and  i-eceived  the  greatest  marks  of  atten 
tion  from  wen  of  science.  In  his  passage  through 
Holland,  he  learned  from  the  watermeal  the  effect 
which  a  diminution  of  the  quantity  of  water  in  ca 
nals  has,  in  impeding  the  progress  of  boats.  Upon 
liis  return  to  England,  he  was  led  to  make  a  number 
of  experiments,  all  of  which  tended  to  confirm  th 
observation.  These,  with  an  explanation  of  the  phe 
nomenon,  he  communicated  in  a  letter  to  his  friend, 
Sir  John  Pringle,  which  is  among  his  philoso 
phical  pieces. 

In  the  following  year  he  travelled  into  France, 
where  he  met  with  a  no  less  favorable  reception  than 
he  had  experienced  in  Germany.  He  was  introduc 
ed  to  a  number  of  literary  characters,  and  to  the 
king,  Louis  XV. 

Several  letters  written  by  Hutchinson,  Oliver,  and 
others,  to  persons  in  eminent  stations  in  Great  Bri 
tain,  came  into  the  hands  of  Dr.  Franklin.  These 
contained  the  most  violent  invectives  against  the 
leading  characters  of  the  state  of  Massachusetts,  and 
and  strenuously  advised  the  prosecution  of  vigorous 
measures,  to  compel  the  people  to  obedience  to  the 
measures  of  the  ministry.  These  he  transmitted  to 
the  legislature,  by  whom  they  were  published.  At 
tested  copies  of  them  were  sent  to  Great  Britain, 
r  with  an  address,  praying  the  king  to  discharge  from 
office  persons  who  had  rendered  themselves  so  obnox 
ious  to  the  people,  and  who  had  shown  them  so  un 
friendly  to  their  interests.  The  publication  of  thesa 
letters  produced  a  duel  between  Mr.  Whately  and 
Mr.  Temple:  each  of  whom  was  suspected  ofha^ 
ing  been  instrumental  in  procuring  them.  To  pre« 
vent  any  further  disputes  on  this  subject,  Dr.  Frank- 
lin,  in  one  of  the  public  papers,  declared  thai  he  had 
sent  them  to  America,  but  would  give  no  informa 
tion  concerning  the  manner  in  which  he  had  obtain 
ed  them  ;  nor  was  this  ever  discovered. 

Shortly  after,  the  petition  of  the  Massachusetts 
assembly  was  taken  uu  for  examination,  before  thjj 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  121 

privy-council.  Dr.  Franklin  attended  as  agent  for 
the  Assembly ;  and  here  a  torrent  of  the  most  violent 
and  unwarranted  abuse  was  poured  upon  him  by  the 
solicitor-general,  Wedderburne,  who  was  engaged  as 
counsel  for  Oliver  and  Hutchinson.  The  petition 
was  declared  to  be  scandalous  and  vexatious,  arid 
the  prayer  of  it  refused. 

Although  the  parliament  of  Great  Britain  had  re- 
ealed  the  stamp-act,  it  was  only  upon  the  principle 
f  expediency.  They  still  insisted  upon  their  righ 
o  tax  the  colonies ;  and,  at  the  same  time  the  stamp- 
act  was  repealed,  an  act  was  passed,  declaring  the 
right  of  parliament  to  bind  the  colonies  in  all  casei 
whatsoever.  This  language  was  used  even  by  the. 
most  strenuous  opposers  of  the  stamp-act :  and, 
amongst  others,  by  Mr.  Pitt.  This  right  was  nevei 
recognized  by  the  colonists;  but  as  they  flattered 
themselves  that  it  would  not  be  exercised,  they  were 
not  ver)r  active  in  remonstrating  against  it.  Had  thu 
pretended  right  been  suffered  to  remain  dormant,  the 
colonists  would  cheerfully  have  furnished  their  quota 
of  supplies,  in  the 'mode  to  which  they  had  been  ac 
customed;  that  is,  by  the  acts  of  their  own  assemblies, 
in  consequence  of  requisitions  from  the  Secretary  o^ 
State,  if  this  practice  had  been  pursued,  such  was 
the  disposition  of  the  colonies  towards  their  mothe* 
country,  that,  notwithstanding  the  disadvantages  un 
der  which  they  laboured,  from  restraints  upon  their 
trade,  calculated  solely  for  the  beneh't  of  the  com 
mercial  and  manufacturing  interests  of  Gi  eat  Britain, 
a  sepa ration  of  the  two  countries  might  have  been  a 
far  distant  even*.  The  Americans,  from  their  ear- 
liest  infancv,  were  taught  to  venerate  a  people  from 
A'hom  they  were  descended  ;  whose  language,  laws, 
nd  manners,  were  the  same  as  their  own.  They 
ooked  up  to  them  as  models  of  perfection  ;  and,  in 
their  prejudiced  minds,  the  most  enlightened  nations 
of  Euiope  were  considered  as  almost  barbarians,  in 
comparison  with  Englishmen.  The  name  of  an  En 
glishman  convoyed  to  an  American  the  idea  of  every 
thing  good  and  great.  Such  sentiments  instilled  into 
them  iti  early  life,  what  but  a.  repetition  of  unjust 
•treatment  could  have  induced  them  lo  entertain  the 


s 


122  LIFE  OF 

most  distant  thought  of  separation !  The  duties  on 
glass,  paper,  leather,  painters'  colours,  &c.  the  dis- 
franchisement  of  some  of  the  colonies  i  the  obstruc 
tion  to  the  measures  of  the  legislature  in  others,  by 
the  king's  governors  ;  the  contemptuous  treatment  of 
their  humble  remonstrances,  stating  their  grievances, 
and  praying  a  redress  of  them,  and  other  violent  and 
oppressive  measures,  at  length  excited  an  ardent 
spirit  of  opposition.  Instead  ot  endeavouring  to  al 
lay  this  by  a  more  lenient  conduct,  a>e  ministry  seem 
ed  resolutely  bent  on  reducing  the  colonies  to  the 
most  slavish  obedience  to  their  decrees.  But  this 
only  tended  to  aggravate.  Vain  were  all  the  efforts 
made  use  of  to  prevail  upon  them  to  lay  aside  their 
designs,  to  convince  them  of  the  impossibility  of  car 
rying  them  into  effect,  and  of  the  mischievous  conse 
quences  which  must  ensue  from  a  continuance  of 
the  attempt.  They  persevered  with  a  degree  of  in 
flexibility  scarcely  parallelled. 

The  advantages  which  Great  Britain  derived  from 
her  colonies  was  so  great,  that  nothing  but  a  degree 
of  infatuation,  little  short  of  madness,  could  have 
produced  a  continuance  of  measures  calculated  to 
keep  up  a  spirit  of  uneasiness,  which  might  occasion 
the  slightest  wish  for  a  separation.  When  we  con 
sider  the  great  improvements  in  *he  science  of  go 
vernment,  the  general  diffusion  of  the  principles  of 
liberty  amongst  the  people  of  Europe,  the  effects  which 
these  have  already  produced  in  France,  and  the  pro 
bable  consequences  which  will  result  from  them 
elsewhere,  all  of  which  are  the  offspring  of  the  Ameri 
can  revolution,  it  cannot  but  appear  strange,  that 
events  of  so  great  moment  to  the  happiness  of  man 
kind,  should  have  been  ultimately  occasioned  by  the 
wickedness  or  ignorance  of  a  British  ministry. 
1  Dr.  Franklin  left  nothing  untried  to  prevail  upon 
the  ministiy  tc  consent  to  a  change  of  measures.  In 
private  conversations,  and  in  letters  to  persons  in 
government,  he  continually  expatiated  upon  the  im 
policy  and  injustice  of  their  conduct  towards  Ame 
rica;  and  stated,  that,  notwithstanding  the  attach 
ment  to  the  mother-country,  a  repetition  of  ill  treat 
ment  must  ultimately  alineate  their  affections.  They 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  123 

Ilst3ned  not  to  his  advice.  They  blindly  persevered 
in  their  own  schemes,  and  left  to  the  colonists  no  al 
ternative,  but  opposition,  or  unconditional  submis 
sion.  The  latter  accoiided  not  with  the  principles  of 
freedom,  which  they  iiad  been  taught  to  revere.  To 
the  former  they  were  compelled,  though  reluctantly, 
to  have  recourse. 

Dr.  Franklin,  finding  all  efforts  to  restore  harmo 
ny  between  Great  Britain  and  her  colonies  useless 
eturnod  to  America  in  the  year  1775  ;  just  after  tna 
commencement  of  hostilities.  The  day  after  his  re 
turn  he  was  elected  by  the  legislature  of  Pennsylvania 
a  delegate  to  congress.  Not  long  after  his  -election  9 
committee  was  appointed,  consisting  of  Mr.  Lynch, 
Mr.  Harrison,  and  himself,  to  visit  the  camp  at  Cam* 
bridge,  and,  in  conjunction  with  the  commander-in. 
chief,  to  endeavour  to  convince  the  troops,  whose 
term  of  enlistment  was  about  to  expire,  of  the  necer?" 
sity  of  their  continuing  in  the  field,  and  persevering 
in  the  cause  of  their  country. 

In  the  fall  of  the  same  year  he  visited  Canada,  to 
endeavcur  to  unite  them  in  the  common  cause  of 
liberty  ;  but  they  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  op 
pose  the  measures  of  the  British  governments.  M. 
ie  .Roy,  in  n  letter  annexed  to  Abbe  Fauchet's  eulo- 
gium  of  Dr.  Franklin,  states,  that  the  ill  success  of 
this  negociation  was  occasioned,  in  a  great  degree, 
by  religious  animosities,  which  subsisted  between  tha 
Canadians  and  their  neighbours,  some  of  whom  had 
at  different  limes,  burnt  their  chapels. 

When  Lord  Ho\ve  came  to  America,  in  1776,  vest- 
ed  with  power  to  treat  with  the  colonists,  a  corres* 
pondence  took  r'ace  between  him  and  Dr.  Franklin 
on  the  subject  of  a  reconciliation.  Dr.  Franklin  was 
afterwards  appointed,  together  with  John  Adams  an 
Edward  Rutledgp,  to  wait  upon  the  commissioner 
in  order  to  learn  the  extent  of  their  powers.  Theca 
were  found  to  be  onl}r  to  grant  pardons  upon  sub 
mission.  These  were  terms  which  would  not  be  ac 
cepted  ;  and  the  object  of  the  commissioners  could 
not  be  obtained. 

The  momentous  question  of  independence 
shortly  after  brought  into  view,  at  a  time  when  Uj » 
6 


12*  LIFE  OF 

fle«ts  and  armies,  which  were  sent  to  enforce  ohc- 
dience,  were  truly  formidable.  With  an  army,  nu 
merous  indeed,  but  ignorant  of  discipline,  and  en 
tirely  unskilled  in  the  art  of  war,  without  money, 
without  a  fleet,  without  allies,  and  with  nothing  but 
the  love  of  liberty  to  support  them,  the  colonists  de 
termined  to  separate  from  a  country,  from  which  they 
had  experienced  a  repetition  of  injury  and  insult 
In  this  question,  Dr.  Franklin  was"  decidedly  in  fa 
vour  of  the  measure  proposed,  and  had  great  infill 
ence  in  bringing  others  over  to  his  sentiments. 

The  public  mind  had  been  already  prepared  fbi 
this  event,  by  Mr.  Paine's  celebrated  pamphlet,  Com 
mon  Sense.  There  is  gcod  reason  to  believe  that  Dr. 
Franklin  had  no  inconsiderable  share,  at  least,  ii* 
furnishing  materials  for  this  work. 

In  the  convention  that  assembled  at  Philadelphia 
in  1776,  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  new  form 
of  government  for  the  state  of  Pem^lvarra,  Dr. 
Franklin  was  chosen  president.  The  late  constitu 
tion  of  this  state,  which  was  the  result  of  their  deli 
berations,  may  be  considered  as  a  digest  of  his  prin 
ciples  of  government.  The  single  legislature,  and 
the  plural  executive,  seem  to  have  been  his  favourite 
tenets. 

In  the  latter  end  of  1776,  Dr.  Franklin  was  ap 
pointed  to  assist  at  the  negotiation  which  had  been 
set  on  foot  by  Silas  Deane,  at  the  court  of  France. 
A  conviction  of  the  advantages  of  a  commercial  in 
tercourse  with  America,  ami  a  desire  of  weakening 
the  British  empire  by  dismembering  it,  first  induced 
the  French  court  to  listen  to  proposals  of  an  alliance. 
But  they  showed  rather  a  reluctance  to  the  measure, 
vh/ch  by  Dr.  Franklin's  address,  and  particularly  by 
he  success  of  the  American  arms  against  General 
Burgoyne,  was  at  length  overcome ;  and  in  February, 
1778,  a  treaty  of  alliance,  offensive  and  defensive, 
was  concluded ;  in  consequence  of  which  France 
became  involved  in  the  war  with  Great  Britain. 

Perhaps  no  person  could  have  been  found  >nore 
capable  of  rendering  essential  service  to  the  United 
States  at  the  court  of  France  than  Dr.  Franklin.  Ha 
was  well  known  as  a  philosopher,  and  liis  churactet 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  125 

was  held  in  the  highest  estimation.  He  was  receiv 
ed  with  the  greatest  marks  of  respect  by  all  the  lite 
rary  chaiactcrs;  and  this  respect  was  extended 
amongst  all  classes  of  men.  His  personal  influence 
was  hence  very  considerable.  To  the  effects  of  this 
were  add^cl  those  of  various  performances  which  he 
published,  tending  to  establish  the  credit  and  charac 
ter  of  the  United  States.  To  his  exertions  in  this 
way  may,  in  no  small  degree,  be  ascribed  the  success 
of  the  loans  negociated  in  Holland  and  France,  which 
greatly  contributed  to  bringing  the  war  to  a  happy 
conclusion. 

The  repeated  ill-success  of  their  arms,  and  more 
particularly  the  capture  of  Cornwallis  and  his  army, 
at  length  convinced  the  British  nation  of  the  impos 
sibility  of  reducing  the  Americans  to  subjection.  The 
trading  interest  particularly  become  clamorous  for 
peace.  The  ministry  were  unable  longer  lo  oppose 
their  wishes.  Provision!  articles  oi  peace  were 
agreed  to,  and  signed  at  Paris,  on  the  30th  of  Novem 
ber.  1782,  by  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Adams,  Mr.  Jay, 
and  Mr.  Laurens,  on  the  part  of  the  United  States ; 
and  by  Mr.  Oswald  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain. — 
These  formed  the  basis  of  the  definitive  treaty,  which 
was  concluded  the  third  of  September,  1783,  and 
signed  by  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Adams,  and  Mr.  Jay, 
on  the  one  part,  and  by  Dr.  David  Hartley  on  the 
other. 

On  the  third  of  April,  1783,  a  treaty  of  amity  and 
commerce,  between  the  United  States  and  Sweden, 
was  concluded  at  Paris  by  Dr.  Franklin  and  th« 
Count  Von  Kiutz. 

A  similar  treaty  with  Prussia  was  concluded  ir 
1 785,  not  long  before  Dr.  Franklin's  departure  froro 
Europe. 

Dr.  Franklin  did  not  suffer  his  political  pursuits  to 
engross  his  whole  attention.  Some  of  his  perform 
auces  made  their  appearance  in  Paris.  The  object 
on  these  were  generally  the  promotion  of  industry 
and  economy. 

In  the  year  1784,  when  animal  magnetism  made 
great  noise  in  the  world,  particularly  at  Paris,  it  was 
thought  a  matter  of  such  importance,  that  the  King. 


126  LIFE  OF 

appointed  commissioners  to  examine  into  the  foun 
dation  of  this  pretended  science.  Dr.  Franklin  was 
one  of  the  number.  After  a  fair  and  diligeat  exami 
nation,  in  the  course  of  which  Mesmer  repeated  a 
number  of  experiments,  in  the  presence  of  the  com 
missioners,  some  of  which  were  tried  upon  them 
selves,  they  determined  that  it  was  a  mere  trick,  in 
tended  to  impose  upon  the  ignorant  and  credulous 
Mesmer  was  thus  interrupted  in  his  career  to  wealth 
and  fame,  and  a  most  insolent  attempt  to  impose 
upon  the  human  understanding  baffled. 

The  important  ends  of  Dr.  Franklin's  mission  be 
ing  completed  by  the  establishment  of  American 
Independence,  and  the  infirmities  of  age  and  disease 
coming  upon  him,  he  became  desirous  of  returning 
to  his  native  country.  Upon  application  to  congress 
to  be  recalled,  Mr.  Jefferson  was  appointed  to  suc 
ceed  him,  in  1785.  Some  time  in  September  of  the 
same  year,  Dr.  Franklin  arrived  in  Philadelphia.  He 
was  shortly  after  chosen  a  member  of  the  supreme 
executive  council  for  the  city,  and  soon  after  was 
elected  president  of  tue  same. 

When  a  convention  was  called  to  meet  in  Philadel 
phia,  in  1787,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  more  energy 
to  the  government  of  the  union,  by  revising  and 
Emending  the  articles  of  confederation,  Dr.  Franklin 
was  appointed  a  delegate  from  the  state  of  Pennsyl 
vania.  He  signed  the  constitution  which  they  pro 
posed  for  the  union,  and  gave  it  the  most  unequivo 
cal  marks  of  his  approbation. 

A  society  for  political  inquiries,  of  which  Dr. 
Franklin  was  president,  was  established  about  this 
period.  The  meetings  were  held  at  his  house.  Two 
«r  three  essays  read  in  this  society  were  published. 
It  did  not  long  continue. 

la  the  year  1787,  two  societies  were  established  in 
Philadelphia,  founded  on  the  principles  of  the  most 
liberal  and  refined  humanity — The  Philadelphia  So 
ciety  for  alleviating  the  miseries  of  public  prisons; 
*nd  the  Pennsylvania  Society,  for  promoting  the  abo» 
Htion  of  slavery,  the  relief  of  free  negroes  unlawfully 
held  in  bondage,  and  the  improvement  of  the  condition 
vf  the  African  race.  Of  each  of  tl^ese  Dr.  Franklin 


DR.  FRALtKNN.  127 

was  president  The  labours  of  these  bodies  have 
been  crowned  with  great  success ;  and  they  continue 
to  prosecute,  wnh  unwearied  diligence,  the  laudable 
designs  for  which  they  were  established. 

Dr.  Franklin's  increasing  infirmites  prevented  his 
regular  attendance  at  the  council-chamber ;  and  in 
1788,  he  retired  wholly  from  public  life. 

His  constitution  had  been  a  remarkably  good  one, 
He  had  been  little  subject  to  disease,  except  an  at 
lack  of  the  gout  occasionally,  until  about  the  year 
1781,  when  he  was  first  attacked  with  symptoms  o 
the  calculou3  complaint,  which  continued  during  his 
life.     During  the  intervals  of  pain  from  this  grievous 
disease,  he  spent  many  cheerful  hours,  conversing  in 
the  most  agreeable  and  instructive  manner.     His  fa 
culties  were  entirely  unimpaired,  even  to  the  hour  of 
his  death. 

His  name  as  president  of  the  abolition  society,  was 
signed  to  the  memorial  presented  to  the  hou.se  of  re 
presentatives  of  the  United  States,  on  the  twelfth  of 
February,  1789,  praying  them  to  exert  the  full  extent 
of  power  vested  in  them  by  the  constitution,  in  dis 
couraging  the  traffic  of  the  human  species.  This  was 
his  last  public  act  — In  the  debates  to  which  this  me 
morial  gave  rise,  several  attempts  were  made  to  jus 
tify  the  trade.  In  the  Federal  Gazette  of  March  25th, 
there  appeared  an  essay,  signed  Historicus,  written 
by  Dr.  Franklin,  in  which  he  communicated  a  speech, 
said  to  have  been  delivered  in  the  Divan  of  Algiers, 
in  1687,  in  opposition  to  the  prayer  of  the  petition  of 
a  set  called  Erika,  or  purists,  for  the  abolition  of 
piracy  and  slavery.  This  pretended  African  speech 
was  an  excellent  parody  of  one  delivered  by  Mr. 
Jackson  of  Georgia.  All  the  arguments  used  in  fa 
vour  of  negro  slavery,  are  applied  with  equal  force 
to  justify  the  plundering  and  enslaving  of  Europeans. 
It  affords,  at  the  same  time,  a  demonstration  of  the 
futility  of  the  arguments  in  defence  of  the  slave  trade, 
and  of  the  strength  of  mind  and  ingenuity  of  the 
author,  at  his  advanced  period  of  life.  It  furnished 
too,  a  no  less  convincing  proof  of  his  power  of  imitat 
ing  the  style  of  other  times  and  nations  than  his  ce 
lebrated  parable  against  oersecution.  And  as  the 


K8  LIFE  OP 

latter  led  many  persons  to  search  the  Scriptures  with 
a  view  to  find  it,  so  the  former  caused  many  persona 
to  search  the  book-stores  and  libraries  for  the  work 
from  which  it  was  said  to  be  extracted.* 

In  the  beginning  of  April  following,  he  was  attack 
ed  with  fever  and  acomplaintof  his  breast,  which  ter- 
ininted  his  existence.  The  following  account  of  his 
last  illness  was  written  by  his  friend  and  physician, 
Dr.  Jones. 

"  The  stone,  with  which  he  had  been  afflicted  fo 
several  years,  had  for  the  last  twelve  months  confin 
jd  him  chiefly  to  his  bed  ;  and,  during  the  extreme 
gainful  paroxysms,  he  was  obliged  to  take  large  doses 
>f  laudanum  to  mitigate  his  tortures — still,  in  the 
*ntervals  of  pain,  he  not  only  amused  himself  with 
•-eading  and  conversing  cheerfully  with  his  family, 
and  a  few  friends  who  visited  him,  but  was  often 
employed  in  doing  business  of  a  public  as  well  as 
private  nature,  with  various  persons  who  waited  on 
him  for  that  purpose ;  and  in  every  instance  display 
ed,  not  only  that  readiness  and  disposition  of  do-ing 
good,  which  was  the  distinguished  characterestic  of 
his  life,  but  the  fullest  and  clearest  possession  of  his 
uncommon  mental  abilities;  and  not  unfrequently 
indulged  himself  in  those  jeux  d'esprit  and  entertain 
ing  anecdotes,  which  were  the  delight  of  all  who 
heard  him. 

•'  About  sixteen  days  before  his  death,  he  wa» 
seized  with  a  feverish  indisposition,  without  any 
particular  symptoms  attending  it,  till  the  third  01 
fourth  day,  when  he  complained  of  a  pain  in  the 
left  breast,  which  Increased  till  it  became  extremely 
acute,  attended  with  a  cough  and  laborious  breath 
ing.  During  this  state,  when  the  severity  of  hh 
pains  sometimes  drew  foith  a  groan  of  complaint,  he 
would  observe — that  he  was  afraid  he  did  not  bear 
them  as  he  ought — acknowledged  his  grateful  sense 
of  the  many  blessings  he  had  received  from  that 
Supreme  Being,  who  had  raised  him  from  small  and 
low  beginnings  to  such  high  rank  and  consideration 


*  TLw  ipeech  will  be  found  *moof  hb  Esiaji. 


DR.  FKANKxJJN.  12? 

among  men — and  made  no  doubt  but  his  present  af 
flictions  were  kindly  intended  to  wean  him  from  a 
world,  in  which  he  was  no  longe  fit  to  act  the  parl 
assigned  him.  In  this  frame  of  body  and  mind  he 
continued  till  five  days  before  his  death,  when  his 
pain  and  difficulty  of  breathing  entirely  left  him,  and 
his  family  were  flattering  themselves  with  the  hopes 
of  his  recovery,  when  an  imposthumation,  which  had 
formed  itself  in  his  lungs,  suddenly  burst,  and  ^is 
charged  a  great  quantity  of  matter,  which  he  conr 
tinued  to  throw  up,  while  he  had  sufficient  strength 
to  do  it ;  but,  as  that  failed,  the  organs  of  respiration 
became  gradually  oppressed — a  cairn  lethargic  stata 
succeeded — and,  on  the  17th  of  April,  1790,  about 
eleven  o'clock  at  night,  he  quietly  expired,  closing  a 
long  and  useful  life  of  eighty-four  years  and  threa 
months." 

It  may  not  be  amiss  to  add  to  the  above  account, 
that  Dr.  Franklin,  in  the  year  1735,  had  a  seveuo 
pleurisy,  which  terminated  in  an  abscess  of  the  left 
lobe  of  his  lungs,  and  he  was  then  almost  suffocated 
with  the  quantity  and  suddenness  of  the  discharge. 
A  second  attack,  of  a  similar  nature,  happened  some 
years  after  this,  from  which  he  soon  recovered,  and 
did  not  appear  to  suffer  any  mconvenieooe  in  his 
lespiration  from  these  events. 

The  following  epitaph  on  himself,  was  tvrltten  by 
llim  many  years  previous  to  his  death — 

THE  BODY 
of 

BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN, 

Printer, 
(like  the  cover  of  an  old  book, 

its  contents  torn  out, 
and  atript  of  its  lettering  and  gilding 

lies  here  food  for  worms ; 
yet  the  work  itself  shall  not  be  lost, 


130  LIFE  OF 

for  it  will  (as  'ne  believed)  appear  once  more 

in  a  new 

and  more  beautiful  edition, 
corrected  and  amended 
bj 

THE   AUTHOR. 


EXTRACTS 

FROM   THE   LAST   WILL    AND  TESTAMENT  OF 

DR.  FRANKLIN. 

\\ITH  regard  to  my  books,  those  I  had  in  France, 
and  those  1  left  in  Philadelphia,  being  now  assembled 
together  here,  and  a  catalogue  made  of  them,  it  ia 
my  intention  to  dispose  of  the  same  as  follows : 

My  «*  History  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences,"  in 
sixty  or  seventy  volumes  quarto,  I  give  to  the  philo 
sophical  society  of  Philadelphia,  of  which  I  have  the 
honour  to  be  president.  My  colleciion  in  folio  of 
11  Les  Arts  et  les  Metiers,"  I  give  to  the  American 
philosophical  society,  established  in  New  England, 
of  which  I  am  a  member.  My  quarto  edition  of  the 
same,  "  Arts  et  Metiers,"  I  give  to  the  Horary  com 
pany  of  Philadelphia.  Such  and  so  many  of  my 
books  as  I  shall  mark,  in  the  said  catalogue,  with  the 
name  of  my  grandson,  Benjamin  Franklin  Bache,  I 
do  herehy  give  to  him  :  and  such  and  so  many  of  rny 
bocks  as  I  shall  mark  in  the  said  catalogue  with  the 
name  of  my  grandson  William  Bache,  \  do  hereby 
give  to  ivim :  and  such  as  shall  be  marked  with  the 
lia.ne  of  Jonathan  Williams,  1  hereby  give  to  my 
cousin  of  that  nam3.  The  residue,  and  remainder  of 
all  my  books,  manuscripts  and  papers,  I  do  give  to 
my  grnndson  William  Temple  Franklin.  My  share 
in  the  library  company  of  Philadelphia  I  give  to  my 
grandson  Benjamin  Franklin  Bache,  confiding  that 
he  ?vi)l  permit  his  brothers  and  sisters  to  share  in  tho 
uw  of  it. 


DR.  FRANKLIN.  131 

1  was  born  in  Boston,  in  New  England,  and  owe 
my  first  instructions  in  literature  to  the  free  grammar- 
schools  established  there,  i  therefore  give  one  hun 
dred  pounds  sterling  to  my  executors,  to  be  by  them, 
the  survivors  or  survior  of  them,  paid  over  to  the  man 
agers  or  directors  of  the  free-sci  ols  in  my  native 
town  of  Boston,  to  be  by  them,  or  tne  person  or  per 
sons,  who  shall  have  the  superintendence  and  man 
agement  of  the  said  schools,  put  out  to  interest,  and 
so  continued  at  interest  forever ;  which  interest  an 
nually  shall  be  laid  out  in  silver  medals,  and  giveo 
as  honorary  rewards  annually  by  the  directors  of  the 
said  free  schools,  for  the  encouragement  of  scholar 
ship  in  the  said  schools,  belonging  to  the  said  town, 
in  such  manner  as  to  the  discretion  of  the  select  men 
of  the  said  town  shall  seem  meet. 

Out  of  the  salary  that  may  remain  due  to  me,  as 
president  of  the  state,  I  give  the  sum  of  two  thousand 
pounds  to  my  executors,  to  be  by  them,  the  survivors 
or  survivor  of  them,  paid  over  to  such  person  or  per 
sons  as  the  legislature  of  this  state,  by  an  act  of  the 
assembly,  shall  appoint  to  receive  the  same,  in  trust, 
to  be  employed  for  making  the  Schuylkill  navigable. 

During  the  number  of  years  I  was  in  business  as  a 
stationer,  printer,  and  post-master,  a  great  many 
small  sums  became  due  to  me,  for  books,  advertise 
ments,  postage  of  letters,  and  other  matters,  which 
were  not  collected,  when,  in  1757,  I  was  sent  by  the 
Assembly  to  England  as  their  agent — and  by  subse 
quent  appointments  continued  there  till  1775 — when, 
on  my  return,  I  was  immediately  engaged  in  the 
affairs  of  congress,  and  sent  to  France  in  1776,  where 
I  remained  nine  years,  not  returning  till  1785  ;  and 
Hie  said  debts  not  being  demanded  in  such  a  length 
of  time,  havs  become  in  a  manner  obsolete,  yet  are 
nevertheless  justly  due.  These  as  they  are  stated  in 
my  great  folio  ledger,  E,  I  bequeath  to  the  contribu 
tors  ?f  the  Pennsylvania  hospital,  hoping  that  those 
debtors,  and  the  descendants  of  such  a?  are  deceased, 
who  now,  as  1  find,  make  some  difficulty  of  satisfying 
§uch  antiquated  demands  as  just  debts,  may,  how 
ever,  be  induced  to  pay  or  give  them  as  charity  to 
that  excellent  institution.  1  am  sensible  that  muck 
6  * 


KB  LIFE  OF 

must  bet  inevitably  lost;  but  I  hope  something 
considerable  may  be  recovered.  It  is  possible,  too, 
that  some  of  che  partias  charged  may  have  existing 
old  unsettled  accounts  against  me  ;  in  which  case  the 
managers  of  the  said  hospital  will  al'ow  and  deduct 
the  amount,  or  pay  tiie  balance,  if  they  find  it  against 
ir.e. 

I  request  rny  freinds,  Henry  Hill,  Esq.  John  Jay, 
Esq.  Francis  Hopkinson,  and  Mr.  Edward  Duffield 
of  Bonfield,  in  Philadelphia  county,  to  be  the  execu 
tors  of  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  and  I  hereby 
nominate  and  appoint  them  for  that  purpose. 

I  would  have  my  body  buried  with  as  little  expense 
or  ceremony  as  may  be. 

PHILADELPHIA, 

July,  17,  1788. 


CODICIL. 

I,  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN,  in  the  foregoing  or  annexed 
iast  \v;ll  and  testament,  having  further  considered  the 
same,  do  think  proper  to  make  and  publish  the  fol 
lowing  codicil,  or  addition  thereto  : 

It  having  long  been  a  fixed  and  political  opinion  of 
mine,  that  in  a  democratical  state  there  ought  to  be  no 
offices  of  profit,  for  the  reason  I  had  given  in  an  arti 
cle  of  my  drawing  in  o«.?r  constitution,  it  was  my  in* 
tention,  when  I  accepted  ihe  office  of  president,  to 
devote  the  appointed  salary  to  some  public  use :  ac 
cordingly  I  had  aheady,  before  I  made  my  last  will, 
in  July  iast,  given  large  sums  of  it  to  colleges,  schools, 
building  of  churches,  &c.  and  in  that  will  I  bequeath 
ed  two  thousand  pounds  more  to  the  state,  for  the 
purpose  of  making  the  Schuylkill  navigable  ;  but  un 
derstanding  since,  that  such  a  sum  would  do  but  lit 
tle  towards  accomplishing  such  a  work,  and  that  the" 
project  is  riot  likely  to  be  undertaken  for  many  years 
locome — and  having  entertained  another  idea,  which 
I  liope  may  be  more  extensively  useful,  I  do  hereby 
revoke  and  annul  the  bequest,  and  direct  that  the 


Dr.  FRANKLLN.  133 

certificates  I  have  for  what  remains  duo  to  me  of  that 
salary,  be  sold  towards  raising  the  sum  of  two  thou 
sand  pounds  sterling,  to  be  disposed  of  as  I  am  now 
about  to  order. 

It  has  been  an  opinion,  tliat  he  who  receives  an 
estate  from  his  ancestors,  is  under  some  obligation 
to  transmit  the  same  to  posterity.  This  obligation 
lies  not  on  me,  who  never  inherited  a  shilling  from 
any  ancestor  or  relation.  I  shall,  however,  if  it  it 
rot  diminished  by  some  accident  before  my  death 
leave  a  considerable  estate  among  my  descendant* 
and  relations.  The  above  observation  is  made  mere  , 
ly  as  some  apology  to  my  family,  for  my  making  be. 
quests  that  do  not  appear  to  have  any  immediate  re 
lation  to  their  advantage. 

I  was  born  in  Boston,  New  England,  and  owe  my 
first  instructions  in  literature  to  the  free  grammar- 
schools  established  there.  I  have  therefore  consider 
ed  those  schools  in  my  will. 

But  I  am  also  under  obligations  to  the  state  Ql 
Massachussetts,  for  having,  unasked,  appointed  me 
formerly  their  agent,  with  a  handsome  salary,  which 
continued  some  years  ;  and,  although  I  accidentally 
lost  in  their  service,  by  transmitting  Governor  Hut- 
chinson's  letters,  much  more  than  the  amount  of 
what  they  gave  me,  I  do  not  think  that  ought  in  the 
least  to  diminish  my  gratitude.  I  have  considered 
that,  among  artisans,  good  apprentices  are  most  like 
ly  to  make  good  citizens:  and  having  myself  been 
bred  to  a  manual  art,  printing,  in  my  native  town, 
and  afterwards  assisted  to  set  up  my  business  in  Phi 
ladelphia  by  kind  loans  of  money  from  two  friends 
there,  which  was  the  foundation  of  my  fortune,  and 
of  all  the  utility  in  life  that  may  be  ascribed  io  me — 
I  wish  to  be  ueful  even  after  my  death,  if  possible,  io 
forming  and  advancing  other  young  men,  that  may  be 
serviceable  to  their  country  hi  both  these  towns. 

To  this  end  I  devote  two  thousand  pounds  sterling, 
which  I  give,  one  thousand  thereof  to  the  inhabitant? 
of  the  town  of  Boston,  in  Massachusetts,  and  the 
other  thousand  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  of  Phi 
ladelphia,  in  trust,  to  and  for  the  uses,  intents,  and 
purposes,  herein  after  mentioned  and  declared. 


ESSAYS  134 

The  said  sum  of  one  thousand  pounds  sterling,  if 
accepted  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  of  Boston, 
shall  be  managed  under  the  direction  of  the  select 
men,  united  with  the  ministers  of  the  oldest  episco 
palian,  congregational,  and  presbyterian  churches  in 
that  town,  who  are  to  let  out  the  same  upon  interest 
at  five  per  cent,  per  annum,  to  such  young  married 
artificers,  under  the  age  of  twenty-five  years,  as  have 
served  an  apprenticeship  in  the  said  town,  and  faith 
fully  fulfilled  the  duties  required  in  their  indentures 
BO  as  to  obtain  a  good  moral  character  from  at  least 
two  respectable  citizens,  who  are  willing  to  become 
sureties  in  a  bond,  with  the  applicants,  for  the  re 
payment  of  the  money  so  lent,  with  interest,  accord 
ing  to  the  terms  herein  after  prescribed  ;  all  which 
bonds  are  to  be  taken  for  Spanish  milled  dollars, 
or  the  value  thereof  in  current  gold  coin ;  and  the 
managers  shall  keep  a  bound  book,  or  books,  where 
in  shall  be  entered  the  names  of  those  who  shall  ap 
ply  for,  and  receive  the  benefit  of  this  institution, 
and  of  their  sureties,  together  with  the  sums  lent, 
the  dates,  and  other  necessary  and  proper  records, 
respecting  the  business  and  concerns  of  this  institu 
tion  :  and  as  these  loans  are  intended  to  assist  young 
married  artificers,  in  setting  up  their  business,  they 
are  to  be  proportioned  by  tne  discretion  of  the  man 
agers,  so  as  not  to  exceed  sixty  pounds  sterling  to  one 
person,  nor  to  be  less  than  fifteen  pounds. 

And  if  the  number  of  appliers  so  entitled  should 
be  3  ^  large  as  that  the  sum  will  not  suffice  to  afford 
to  every  one  some  assistance,  these  aids  may  there- 
fore  be  small  at  first,  but  as  the  capital  increase  by 
the  accumulated  interest,  they  will  be  more  ample. 
And  in  order  to  serve  as  many  as  possible  in  their 
turn,  as  well  as  to  make  the  repayment  of  the  princi 
pal  borrowed  more  easy,  each  borrower  shall  be 
obliged  to  pay  with  the  yearly  interest  one-tenth  part 
of  the  principal;  which  sums  of  principal  and  inter 
est  so  paid  in,  shall  be  again  let  out  to  fresh  borrow 
ers.  And  it  is  presumed,  that  there  will  be  always 
found  in  Boston  virtuous  and  benevolent  citizens, 
willing  to  bestow  a  part  of  their  time  in  doing  good 
to  ihe  rising  generation,  by  superintending  and  man 


DR.  FRALIKNN.  I3a 

aging  this  institution  gratis  ;  it  is  hopecf,  that  no  part 
of  the  money  will  at  any  time  lie  dead,  or  be  divert 
ed  to  other  purposes,  but  be  continually  augmenting 
by  the  interest,  in  which  case  there  may  in  time  be 
more  than  the  occasion  in  Boston  may  require  :  and 
then  some  may  be  spared  to  the  neighbouring  or 
other  towns  in  the  said  state  of  Massachusetts,  which 
may  desire  to  have  it,  such  towns  engaging  to  pay 
Dunctually  the  interest,  and  the  proportions  of  th 
principal  annually  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  o 
Bostoi..  If  this  plan  is  executed,  and  succeeds,  a 
projected,  without  interruption  for  one  hundred  year?, 
the  sum  will  be  then  one  hundred  and  thirty-one 
thousand  pounds ;  of  which  I  would  have  the  mana 
gers  of  the  donation  to  the  town  of  Boston  then  lay 
out,  at  their  discretion,  one  hundred  thousand  pounds 
in  public  works  which  may  be  judged  of  most  general 
utility  to  the  inhabitants :  such  as  fortifications, 
bridges,  aqueducts,  public  buildings,  baths,  pave- 
ments,  or  whatever  may  make  living  in  the  town  more 
convenient  to  its  people,  and  render  it  more  agree 
able  to  strangers  resorting  thither  for  health,  or  a 
temporary  residence.  The  remaining  thirty-one 
thousand  pounds  I  would  have  continued  to  be  let 
out  to  interest,  in  the  manner  above  directed,  for  one 
hundred  years ;  as  I  hope  it  will  have  been  found, 
that  the  institution  has  had  a  good  effect  on  the  con 
duct  of  youth,  and  been  of  service  to  many  worthy 
characters  and  useful  citizens.  At  the  end  of  this 
second  term,  if  no  unfortunate  accident  has  prevent 
ed  the  operation,  the  sum  will  be  four  millions  and 
sixty  one  thousand  pounds  sterling,  of  which  J  leave 
oi*e  million  and  sixty  one  thousand  pounds  to  the  dia- 
oosition  and  management  of  the  inhabitants  of  th 
town  of  Boston  and  the  three  millions  to  the  disposi 
tion  of  the  government  of  the  state  ;  not  presuming  ta 
carry  my  views  farther. 

All  the  directions  herein  given  respecting  the  dis 
position  and  management  of  the  delation  to  tht 
inhabitants  of  Boston,  I  would  have  observed  re 
respecting  that  to  the  inhabitants  of  Philadelphia, 
anly  as  Philadelphia  is  incorporated,  I  request  the 
corporation  of  that  city  to  undertake  the  manage* 


13G  LIFE  OP 

ment,  agreeable  to  said  directions  :  and  I  do  hereby 
vest  them  with  full  and  ample  powers  for  that  pur 
pose.  And  having  considered  that  the  covering  its 
ground  plat  with  buildings  and  pavements,  which 
>:arry  off  most  rain,  and  prevent  its  soaking  into  the 
varth,  and  renewing  and  purifying  the  springs, 
whence  the  water  of  the  wells  must  gradually  grow 
worse,  and  in  time  be  unfit  for  use,  as  1  find  has  hap 
pened  in  all  old  cities ;  I  recommend,  that,  at  the 
end  of  the  first  hiunlred  years,  if  not  done  before,  th 
corporation  of  the  city  employ  a  part  of  the  hand  re 
thousand  pounds  in  bringing  by  pipes  the  water  of 
the  Wissahicon-creek  into  the  town,  so  as  to  supply 
the  inhabitants,  which  I  apprehend  may  be  done 
without  great  difficulty,  the  level  of  that  creek  being 
much  above  that  of  the  city,  and  may  be  made  higher 
by  a  dam.  I  also  recommend  making  the  Schuyl- 
kill  completely  navigable.  At  the  end  of  the  second 
hundred  years,  I  would  have  the  disposition  of  the 
four  millions  and  sixty-one  thousand  pounds  divided 
between  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  of  Philadelphia 
and  the  government  of  Pennsylvania,  in  the  same 
manner  as  herein  directed  with  respect  to  that  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Boston  and  the  government  of  Mas 
sachusetts.  It  is  my  desire  that  this  institution 
should  take  place,  and  begin  to  operate  within  one 
}'ear  after  m}^  decease  -r  for  which  purnose  due  notice 
should  be  publicly  given,  previous  to  the  expiration 
of  that  year,  that  those  for  whose  benefit  this  esta 
blishment  is  intended  may  make  their  respective  ap 
plications:  and  I  hereby  direct  my  executors,  the 
survivors  and  survivor  of  them,  within  six  months 
after  my  decease,  to  pay  over  the  said  sum  of  two 
thousand  pounds  sterling  to  such  persons  as  shalJ  be 
<fluly  appointed  by  the  select  men  of  Boston,  and  tha 
corporation  of  Philadelphia,  and  to  receive  and  take 
charge  of  their  respective  sums  of  one  thousand 
pounds  each  foi  the  purposes  aforesaid.  Consider 
ing  the  accidents  to  which  all  human  affairs  and  pro 
jects  are  subject  in  such  a  length  of  time,  I  have  per 
haps  too  much  flattered  myself  with  a  vain  fancy, 
that  these  dispositions,  if  carried  into  execution,  will 
OB  continued  without  interruption,  and  have  the  ef 


Oft.  FKANRLIN.  13t 

fccts  proposed ;  I  hope,  however,  that  if  the  inhabi 
tants  of  the  two  cities  should  not  think  fit  to  under 
take  the  execution,  they  will  at  least  accept  the  ofiei 
of  tiiese  donations,  as  a  mark  of  my  good  will,  token 
of  my  gratitu  te,  and  testimony  of  my  desire  to  be 
useful  to  them  even  after  my  departure.  I  wish,  in 
deed  that  they  may  both  undertake  to  endeavour  the 
execution  of  my  project,  because  I  think,  that,  though 
unforeseen  difficulties  may  arise,  expedients  will  b 
found  to  remove  them,  and  the  scheme  be  foun 
practicable.  If  one  of  them  accepts  the  money  with 
Jne  conditions,  and  the  other  refuses,  my  will  then  is 
lhat  both  sums  be  given  to  the  inhabitants  o*f  the  city 
accepting ;  the  whole  to  be  applied  to  the  same  pur 
poses,  and  under  the  same  regulations  directed  fot 
the  separate  parts ;  and  if  both  refuse,  the  money 
remains  of  course  iti  the  mass  of  my  estate,  and  it  is 
to  be  disposed  of  therewith,  according  to  my  will 
made  the  seventeenth  day  of  July,  1788. 

My  fine  crab-tree  walking-stick,  with  a  gold  head 
curiously  wrought  in  the  form  of  the  Cap  of  Liberty, 
I  give  to  my  friend,  and  the  friend  of  mankind, 
General  Washington.  If  it  were  a  sceptre,  he  hat 
merited  it,  and  would  become  it. 


ESSAYS 


HUMOROUS,  MORAL.   AJYD 
LITERARY. 


ON  EARLY  MARRIAGES. 
To  John  Alleyn,  Esq. 


You  desire,  you  say,  my  impartial  thoughts  on  th« 
subject  of  an  early  marriage,  by  way  of  answer  to 
Ihe  numberless  objections  that  have  been  made  by 
numerous  persons  to  your  own.  You  may  remember, 
when  you  consulted  me  on  the  occasion,  that  I  thought 
youth  on  both  sides  to  be  no  objection.  Indeed,  from 
the  marriages  that  have  fallen  under  my  observation, 
I  am  rather  inclined  to  think,  that  early  ones  stand 
the  best  chance  of  happiness.  The  temper  and  habits 
of  the  young  are  not  yet  become  so  stiff  and  uncom 
plying,  as  when  more  advanced  in  life  ;  they  form 
more  easily  to  each  other,  and  hence,  many  occasions 
of  disgust  are  removed.  And  if  youth  has  less  of  that 
prudence  which  is  necessary  to  manage  a  famfly,  yet 
the  parents  and  elder  friends  of  young  married  per. 
sons  are  generally  at  hand  to  afford  their  advice 
which  amply  supplies  that  defect ;  and,  by  early  mar 
riage,  youth  is  sooner  formed  to  regular  and  usefu 
life  ;  and  possibly  some  of  those  accidents,  or  con 
nexions,  that  might  have  injured  the  constitution,  or 
eputation,  or  both,  are  J  hereby  happily  prevented 
Particular  circumstances  of  particular  persons,  may 
possibly  sometimes  make  it  prudent  to  delay  entering 
into  that  state ;  but,  in  general,  v/hen  nature  has  ren 
clered  our  bodies  fit  for  it,  the  presumption  is  in  na 
ture's  favour,  that  she  has  not  judged  amiss  in  mak- 


ESSAYS.  139 

ing  us  desire  it.  Late  marriages  are  often  attended, 
too,  with  this  further  inconvenience,  that  there  is  not 
the  same  chance  that  the  parents  should  live  to  see 
their  offspring  educated.  "  Late  children,"  says  the 
Spanish  proverb,  "  are  early  orphans."  A  melan 
choly  reflection  to  those  whose  case  it  may  be  !  With 
us  in  America,  marriages  are  generally  in  the  morn 
ing  of  life  ;  our  children  are  therefore  educated  and 
settled  in  the  world  by  noon ;  and  thus,  our  business 
being  done,  we  have  an  afternoon  and  evening  o 
•cheerful  leisure  to  ourselves,  such  as  our  friend  at 
'present  enjoys.  By  these  early  marriages  we  are 
:  blsssed  vvitli  more  children ;  and  from  the  mode 
among  us,  founded  by  nature,  of  every  mother  suck 
ling  and  nursing  her  own  child,  more  of  them  are 
raised.  Thence  the  swift  progress  of  population 
among  us,  unparalleled  in  Europe.  In  fine,  I  am 
glad  you  are  married,  and  congratulate  you  most 
cordially  upon  it.  You  are  now  in  the  way  of  be 
coming  a  useful  citizen ;  and  you  have  escaped 
Hie  unnatural  state  of  celibacy  for  life — the  fate  of 
many  here,  who  never  intended  it,  but  who  having  too 
long  postponed  the  change  of  their  conditions,  find, 
at  length,  that  it  is  too  late  to  think  of  it,  and  so  live 
ftll  their  lives  in  a  situation  that  greatly  lessens  a 
man's  value.  An  odd  volume  of  a  set  of  books, 
*>ears  not  the  value  of  its  proportion  to  the  set ;  what 
*hink  you  of  the  odd  half  of  a  pair  of  scissors;  it 
cant  well  cut  any  thing;  it  may  possibly  serve  to 
scrape  a  trencher. 

Pray  make  my  compliments  and  best  wishes  ac 
ceptable  to  your  bride.  I  arn  old  and  heavy,  or  I 
«hould  ere  this  have  presented  them  in  person,  f 
hall  make  but  small  use  of  the  old  man's  privilege, 
hat  of  giving  advice  to  younger  friends.  Treat  your 
wife  always  with  respect;  it  will  procure  respect  to 
you,  not  only  from  Ler,  but  from  all  that  observe  it. 
Never  use  a  slighting  expression  to  her,  even  in  jest ; 
for  slights  in  jest,  after  frequent  bandyings,  are  apt 
to  end  in  angry  earnest.  Be  stucHous  in  your  pro 
fession,  and  you  will  be  learned.  Be  industrioiio  and 
frugal  and  you  will  be  rich.  Be  sober  and  remper- 
ate,  and  you  will  be  healthy.  Be  ingeneial  virtu 


140  ESSAYS. 

ous,  and  you  will  be  happy.  At  least,  you  will,  by 
such  conduct,  stand  the  best  chance  for  such  con 
sequences.  I  pray  God  to  bless  you  both !  being 
ever  your  affectionate  friend, 

B.  FRANKLIN 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  HIS  BROTHER, 

MR.    JOHN   FRANKLIN. 
TO  MISS  HUBBARD. 

I  CONDOLE  with  you.  We  have  lost  a  most  dear 
and  valuable  relation.  But  it  is  the  will  of  God  and 
nature,  that  these  mortal  bodies  be  laid  aside,  when 
the  soul  is  to  enter  into  real  life.  This  is  rather  an 
embryo  state,  a  preparation  for  living.  A  ma:i  is  not 
completely  born  until  he  be  dead.  Why  then  should 
we  grieve  that  a  new  child  is  born  among  the  immor 
tals,  a  new  member  added  to  their  happy  society  ? 
We  are  spirits.  That  bodies  should  be  lent  us,  while 
while  they  can  afford  us  pleasure,  assist  us  in  acquir 
ing  knowledge,  or  doing  good  to  our  fellow-creatures, 
is  a  kind  and  benevolent  act  of  God.  When  they 
become  unfit  for  these  purposes,  and  afford  us  pain 
instead  of  pleasure,  instead  of  an  aid  becomes  an 
incumbrance,  and  answer  none  of  the  intentions  for 
which  they  were  given,  k  is  equally  kind  and  bene 
volent  that  a  way  is  provided  by  which  we  may  get 
rid  of  them.  Death  is  that  way.  We  ourselves,  in 
some  cases,  prudently  choose  a  partial  death.  A 
mangled  painful  limb,  which  cannot  be  restored,  w 
willingly  cut  off.  He  who  plucks  out  a  tooth,  part 
with  it  freely,  since  the  pain  goes  with  it :  and  he 
who  quits  the  whole  body,  parts  at  once  with  all 
pains,  and  possibilities  of  pains  and  diseases,  it  was 
liable  to,  or  capable  of  making  him  suffer. 

Our  friend  and  we  are  invited  abroad  on  a  party 
of  pleasure,  which  is  to  last  for  ever.  His  chair  waa 
ready  first ;  and  he  is  gone  before  UP.  We  could  not 
all  conveniently  start  together ;  and  why  should 'you 


ESSAV&  141 

and  I  be  grieved  at  this,  since  we  are  soon  to  follow 
and  know  where  to  find  him  ? 

Adieu, 

B.  FRANKLIN. 


TO   THE   LATE 

DOCTOR  MATHER,  OF  BOSTON 

REV.    SIR, 

I  KECEIVF.D  your  kind  letter,  with  your  excellent 
advice  to  the  people  of  the  United  States,  which  1 
read  with  great  pleasure,  and  hope  it  will  be  duly 
regarded.  Such  writings,  though  they  may  be  lightly 
passed  over  by  many  readers,  yet  if  they  make  a 
deep  impression  on  one  active  mind  in  a  hundred, 
the  effects  may  be  considerable. 

Permit  me  to  mention  one  little  instance,  which, 
though  it  relates  to  myself,  will  not  be  quite  uninter 
esting  to  you.  When  1  was  a  boy,  I  met  with  a 
book  entitled  *«  Essays  to  do  good,"  which  I  think 
was  written  by  your  father.  It  has  been  so  little  re 
garded  by  a  former  possessor,  that  several  leaves  oi 
it  were  torn  out ;  but  the  remainder  gave  me  such  a 
turn  of  thinking,  as  to  have  an  influence  on  my  con 
duct  through  life ;  for  I  have  always  set  a  greater 
value  on  the  character  of  a  doer  of  good,  than  any 
other  kind  of  reputation  ;  and  if  1  have  been,  as  you 
eeem  to  think,  a  useful  citizen,  the  public  owes  the 
advantage  of  it  to  that  book. 

You  mention  your  being  in  your  seventy-eighth 
year.  1  am  in  my  seventy-ninth.  We  are  grown  old 
together.  It  is  now  more  than  sixty  years  since  I  left 
Boston ;  but  I  remember  well  both  your  father  and 
grandfather,  having  heard  them  both  in  the  pulpit, 
and  seen  them  in  their  houses.  The  last  time  1  saw 
your  father  was  the  beginning  of  1 724,  when  I  visited 


MS  ESSAYS. 

him  after  my  first  trip  to  Pennsylvania.  He  received 
me  in  his  library  ;  and,  on  my  taking  leave,  showed 
me  a  shorter  way  put  of  the  house,  through  a  nar 
row  passage,  which,  was  crossed  by  a  beam  over 
head.  We  were  still  talking  as  I  withdrew,  he  ac 
companying  me  behind,  and  I  turning  partly  towards 
him,  when  he  said  hastily,  "  Stoop  !  stoop  !"  I  die? 
not  understand  him  till  I  felt  my  head  hit  against  the 
beam.  He  was  a  man  who  never  missed  any  occa 
sion  of  giving  instruction  ;  and  upon  this  he  said  t« 
jne  :  "  You  are  young,  and  have  the  world  before 
you :  stoop  as  you  go  through  it,  a?nd  yr>u  will  miss 
many  hard  thumps."  This  advice,  thus  beat  into 
my  head,  has  frequently  been  of  use  to  me ;  and  I 
often  think  of  it  when  I  see  pride  mortified  and  mis 
fortunes  brought  upon  people  by  their  carrying  their 
heads  too  high. 

I  long  much  to  see  a^ain  my  native  place ;  and 
once  hoped  to  lay  my  bones  there.  I  left  it  in  1723. 
I  visited  it  in  1 733, 1 743, 1 753,  and  1 763 ;  and  in  1 773 
"I  was  in  England.  In  1775  I  had  a  sight  of  it,  but 
could  not  enter,  it  being  in  possession  of  the  enemy. 
I  did  hope  to  have  been  there  in  1783,  but  couM  not 
obtain  my  dismission  from  this  employnJient  here;  and 
now  I  fear  I  shall  never  have  that  happiness.  My 
best  wishes  however  attend  my  dear  country,  "  esto 
perpetual  It  is  now  blessed  with  an  excellent  con 
stitution  :  may  it  last  for  ever ! 

This  powerful  monarchy  continues  its  friendship 
for  the  United  States.  It  is  a  friendship  of  the  ut 
most  importance  to  our  security,  and  should  be  care 
fully  cultivated.  Britain  has  not  yet  well  digested 
the  loss  of  its  dominion  over  us ;  and  has  still  at 
imes  some  flattering  hopes  of  recovering  it.  Acci 
4entsmay  increase  those  hopes,  and  encourage  dan 
gerous  attempts.  A  breach  between  us  and  France 
would  infallibly  bring  the  English  again  upon  our 
Dacks:  and  yet  we  have  some  wild  beasts  among 
our  countrymen,  who  are  endeavouring  to  weaken 
that  connexion. 

Let  us  preserve  our  reputation,  by  performing  oui 
engagements ;  our  credit,  by  fulfilling  our  contracts ; 
Qnd  our  friends,  by  gratitude  and  kindness :  for  we 


ESSAYS  143 

know  not  how  soon  we  may  again  have  occasion  for 
all  of  them. 

With  great  and  sincere  esteem, 
I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

Rev.  Sir, 
Your  most  obedient  and 

Most  humole  se?rant, 

B.  FRANKLIN. 
Pussy,  May  12th,  1784. 


THE  WHISTLE 
A  True  Story—  Written  to  his  Nephew. 

WHF.N  I  was  a  child,  at  seven  yeais  old,  uiy  friends, 
on  a  holiday,  filled  my  pockets  with  coppers.  I  went 
directly  to  a  shop  where  they  sold  toys  for  children ; 
and,  being  charmed  with  the  sound  of  a  whistle,  that 
I  met  by  the  way  in  the  hands  of  another  boy,  I  vo 
luntarily  offered  him  all  my  money  for  one.  I  then 
came  home,  and  went  whistling  all  over  the  house, 
much  pleased  with  my  whistle,  but  disturbing  all  the 
family.  My  brothers,  and  sisters,  and  cousins,  un 
derstanding  the  bargain  I  had  made,  told  me  I  had 
given  four  times  as  much  for  it  as  it  was  worth.  This 
put  me  in  mind  what  good  things  I  might  have  bought 
with  the  rest  of  the  money  ;  and  they  laughed  at  me 
so  much  for  my  folly,  that  I  cried  with  vexation ; 
and  the  reflection  gave  me  more  chagrin  than  the 
whistle  gave  me  pleasuro.  ^ 

This,  however,  was  afterwards  of  use  to  me,  the 
impression  continuing  on  my  mind ;  so  that  often 
when  I  was  tempted  to  buy  some  unnecessary  thing 
I  said  to  myself,  Uori't  give  too  much  for  the  whistle  ; 
and  so  I  saved  my  money. 

As  I  grew  up,  came  into  the  world,  and  observed 
die  actions  of  men,  I  thought  I  met  with  many,  very 
many,  who  gave  too  much  for  their  whistle. 

When  I  saw  any  one  too  ambitious  of  court  fa 
vours,  sacrificing  his  time  in  attendance  on  levees, 
nis  repose,  his  liberty,  his  virtue,  and  perhaps  his 


144  ESSAYS. 

friends,  to  attain  it,  I  have  said  to  myself,  This  man 
gives  too  much  for  his  whistle. 

When  I  saw  another  fond  of  popularity,  constant 
ly  employing  himself  in  political  bustles,  neglecting 
his  own  affairs,  and  ruining  them  by  that  neglect ; 
Jfe  pays  indeed,  says  I,  too  much  for  his  whistle. 

If  1  knew  a  miser,  who  gave  up  every  kind  oi 
comfortable  living,  all  the  pleasure  of  doing  good  lo 
others,  all  the  esteem  of  his  fellow-citizens,  and  the 
joys  of  benevolent  friendship,  for  the  sake  of  -accu 
mulating  wealth  ;  Poor  man,  says  I,  you  do  indeed 
pay  too  much  for  your  whistle. 

When  I  meet  a  man  of  pleasure,  sacrificing  ever> 
laudable  improvement  of  the  mind,  or  of  his  fortune, 
to  mere  corporeal  sensations ;  Mistaken  man,  says  I, 
you  are  providing  pain  for  yourself  instead  of  plea 
sure  :  you  give  too  much  for  your  whistle. 

If  I  see  one  fond  of  fine  clothes,  fine  furniture,  fine 
equipages,  all  above  his  fortune,  for  which  he  con 
tracts  debts,  and  ends  his  career  in  prison ;  Alas, 
says  I,  he  has  paid  dear,  very  dear,  for  his  whistle.. 

When  I  see  a  beautiful  sweet  tempered  girl,  mar 
ried  to  an  ill-natured  brute  of  a  husband ;  What  a 
pity  it  is,  says  I,  that  she  has  paid  so  much  for  a 
whistle. 

In  short,  I  conceived  that  great  part  of  the  mise 
ries  of  mankind  were  brought  upon  them  by  the  false 
estimates  they  had  made  of  the  value  of  tilings,  and 
by  their  giving  too  much  for  their  whistks. 


A  PETITION. 

To  those  who  have  the  Superintendency  of 


Education. 


I  ADDRESS  myself  to  all  the  fHands  of  youth,  an* 
conjure  them  to  direct  their  compassionate  regards  to 
my  unhappy  fate,  in  order  to  remove  the  prejudices 
of  which  1  am  the  victim.  There  are  twin  sisters  of 
us  ;  and  the  two  eyes  of  man  do  not  more  resemble, 
nor  are  capable  of  being  upon  better  terms  with  each 


ESSAYS.  W 

other,  than  my  sister  and  myself,  were  it  not  for  the 
partiality  of  our  parents,  who  made  the  most  injuri 
ous  distinctions  between  us.     From  my  infancy,  I 
have  been  led  to  consider  my  sister  as  a  being,  of  a 
more  elevated  rank.     I  was  suffered  to  grow  up  with 
out  the  least  instruction,  while  nothing  was  spared 
in  her  education.     She  had  masters  to  teach  her 
writing,  drawing,  music,  and  other  accomplishments 
but  if,  by  chance,  I  touched  a  pencil,  a  pen,  or 
needle,  I  was  bitterly  rebuked ;  and  more  than  one 
3  have  been  beaten  for  being  awkward,  and  wanting 
a  giaceful  manner.     It  is  true,  my  sister  associated 
me  with  her  upon  some  occasions ;  but  she  always 
made  a   point  of  taking  the  lead,   calling  upon  me 
only  from  necessity,  or  *.o  figure  by  her  side. 

But  conceive  not,  Sirs,  that  my  complaints  are  in 
stigated  merely  by  vanity — No;  my  uneasiness  is 
'occasioned  by  an  object  much  more  serious.  It  is 
the  practice  in  our  family,  that  ihe  whole  business 
of  providing  for  its  subsistence  falls  upon  nry  sistei 
and  myself.  If  any  indisposition  should  attack  my 
sister — and  I  mention  it  in  confidence  upon  this  oc 
casion,  that  she  is  subject  to  the  gout,  the  rhumatism, 
and  cramp,  without  making  mention  of  other  acci 
dents — what  would  be  the  fate  of  our  poor  family? 
Must  not  the  regret  of  our  parents  be  excessive,  at 
having  placed  so  great  a  difference  between  sisters 
who  are  so  perfectly  equal  ?  Alas !  we  must  perish 
from  distress :  for  it  would  not  be  in  my  power  even 
to  scrawl  a  suppliant  petition  for  relief,  having  been 
obliged  to  employ  the  hand  of  another  in  transcrib 
ing  the  request  which  I  have  now  the  honour  to  pre 
fer  to  you. 

Condescend,  Sirs,  to  make  my  parents  sensible  o 
die  injustice  of  an  exclusive  tenderness,  and  cf  tie 
necessity  of  distributing  theircare  and  affection  among 
all  their  children  equally. 

I  am,  with  a  profound  respect, 

Sirs, 
Your  obedient  servant, 

THE  LEFT  HAND 


146  ESSAVS. 

HANDSOME  AND  DEFORMED  LEG/ 

THERE  are  two  sorts  of  people  in  the  world,  who, 
with  equal  degrees  of  health  and  wealth,  and  the 
other  comforts  of  life,  become,  the  one  happy, 
and  the  other  miserable.  This  arises  very  much  from 
the  different  views  in  which  they  consider  things 
persons,  and  events :  and  the  effect  of  those  differen 
views  upon  their  own  minds. 

In  whatever  situation  men  can  be  placed,  they  ma 
find  conveniences  and  inconveniences:  in  whatever 
companVjthey  may  find  persons  and  conversation  more 
or  less  pleasing :  at  whatever  table,  they  rnay  meet  with 
meats  and  drinks  of  better  and  worse  taste,  dishes  bet* 
ter  and  worse  dressed :  in  whatever  climate,  they  will 
find  good  and  bad  weather  :  under  whatever  govern 
ment,  they  may  find  good  and  bad  laws,  ana  good 
and  Oad  administration  of  those  iaws  :  in  whatever 
poem,  or  work  of  genius,  they  may  see  faults  and 
beauties :  in  almost  every  face,  and  every  person, 
they  may  discover  fine  features  and  defects,  good  and 
bad  q-ualites. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  two  sorts  of  peo 
ple  above  mentioned  fix  their  attention  ;  those  who 
are  disposed  to  be  happy,  on  the  conveniences  of 
things,  the  pleasant  parts  of  conversation,  the  well- 
dressed  dishes,  the  goodness  of  the  wines,  the  fine 
weather,  &c.  and  enjoy  all  with  cheerfulness.  Those 
who  are  to  be  unhappy,  think  and  speak  only  of  the 
contrarieties.  Hence  they  are  continually  discon 
tented  themselves,  and,  by  their  remarks,  sour  the 
pleasures  of  society ;  offend  personally  many  people, 
and  make  themselves  every  where  disagreeable.  I 
fhis  turn  of  mind  was  founded  in  nature,  such  un 
happy  persons  would  be  the  more  to  be  pitied.  But 
as  the  disposition  to  criticise,  and  to  be  disgusted,  is, 
perhaps,  taken  up  originally  by  imitation,  and  is, 
'  unawares,  grown  into  a  habit,  which,  though  at  pre 
sent  strong,  may  nevertheless  be  cured,  when  those' 
who  have  it  are  convinced  of  its  bad  effect  on  theif 
felicity ;  I  hope  this  little  admonition  may  be  of  ser 
vice  to  them,  and  put  them  on  changing  a  habit 


ESSAVS.  147 

wiich,  though  in  the  exercise  it  is  chiefly  an  act  of 
imagination,  yet  it  has  serious  consequences  in  life, 
as  it  brings  on  real  griefs  and  misfortunes.  For  as 
many  as  are  offended  by,  and  nobody  loves,  this  sort 
of  people ;  no  one  shows  them  more  than  the  most 
common  civility  and  respect,  and  scarcely  that} 
and  this  frequently  puts  them  out  of  humour,  and 
draws  them  into  disputes  and  contentions.  If  they 
aim  at  obtaining  some  advantage  in  rank  or  fortune 
obody  wishes  them  success,  or  will  stir  a  step,  o 
peak  a  word  to  favour  their  pretensions.  If  they 
incur  public  censure  or  disgrace,  no  ore  will  defend 
or  excuse,  and  many  join  to  aggravate  their  miscon 
duct,  and  render  them  completely  odious.  If  those 
people  will  not  change  this  bad  habit,  and  conde 
scend  to  be  pleased  with  what  is  pleasing,  without 
fretting  themselves  or  others  about  the  contrarieties, 
it  is  good  for  others  to  avoid  an  acquaintance  with 
them,  which  is  always  disagreeable,  and  sometimes 
very  inconvenient,  especially  when  one  finds  ona's 
self  entangled  in  their  quarrels. 

An  old  philosophical  friend  of  mine  was  grown, 
from  experience,  very  cautious  in  this  particular,  and 
carefully  avoided  any  intimacy  with  such  people. 
He  had,  like  other  philosophers,  a  thermometer  to 
show  him  the  heat  of  the  weather;  and  a  barometer 
to  mark  when  it  was  likely  to  prove  gooa  or  bad  ; 
but  there  being  no  instrument  invented  to  discover, 
at  first  sight,  this  unpleasing  disposition  in  a  person, 
he,  for  that  purpose,  made  use  of  his  legs  :  one  of 
which  was  remarkably  handsome;  the  other,  by 
some  accident,  crooked  and  deformed.  If  a  stranger, 
at  first  interview,  regarded  his  ugly  leg  more  than 
is  handsome  one,  he  doubted  him.  If  be  spoke  o> 
t,  and  took  no  notice  of  the  handsome  leg,  that  wa 
ufficient  to  determine  my  philosopher  to  have  no 
further  acquaintance  with  him.  Every  body  has  not 
this  two-legged  instrument;  but  every  one,  with  a 
little  attention,  may  observe  signs  of  that  carping, 
fault-finding  disposition,  a  nd  take  the  same  resolution 
of  avoiding  the  acquaintance  of  those  infected  wrth 
it.  I  therefore  advise  those  critical,  querulous,  dis 
contented,  unhappy  people,  if  they  wish  to  be  re- 


ESSA1S. 

and  beloved  by  others,  and  happy  in  them* 
MJlves,  they  should  leave  off  looking  at  ike  ugly  leg. 


CONVERSATION  OF  A  COMPANY  OF 
EPHEMERAE ; 

With  the  Soliloquy  of  one  advanced  in  Age. 

TO    MADAME    BRILLIANT 

•fc  - 

You  may  remember,  my  dear  friend,  that  when 
we  lately  spent  that  happy  day,  in  the  delightful 
garden  and  sweet  society  of  the  Moulin  Joly,  I 
fitopt  a  little  in  one  of  our  walks,  and  staid  some 
time  behind  the  company.  We  had  been  shown 
numberless  skeletons  of  a  "kind  of  little  fly,  called  an 
Ephemera,  whose  successive  generations,  we  were 
told,  were  bred  and  expired  within  the  day.  I  hap 
pened  to  see  a  living  company  of  them  on  a  leaf,  who 
appeared  to  be  engaged  in  conversation.  You  know 
I  understand  all  the  inferior  animal  tongues;  my  too 
great  application  to  the  study  of  them  is  the  best  ex 
cuse  1  can  give  for  the  little  progress  I  have  made  in 
your  charming  language.  I  listened  through  curiosi 
ty  to  t)  u  discourse  of  these  little  creatures;  but  as 
they,  in  their  national  vivacity,  spoke  three  or  four 
together,  I  could  make  but  little  of  their  conversa 
tion.  I  found,  however,  4ay  some  broken  expres- 
i  sions  that  I  heard  now  and  then,  they  were  disputing 
:f  warmly  on  the  merit  of  two  foreign  musicians,  one  a 
1  cousin,  the  other  a  muscheto  ;  in  which  dispute  they 
spent  their  time,  seaming  as  regardless  of  the  short 
ness  of  the"«r  life  as  if  they  had  been  sure  of  living 
montn.  Happy  people,  thought  I,  you  live  certainly 
under  a.  wise,  just,  and  mild  government,  since  yo 
have  no  public  grievances  to  complain  of,  nor  any 
other  subject  of  contention  but  the  perfections  or  im 
perfections  of  foreign  music.  I  turned  my  head  from 
ihem  to  an  old  grey-headed  one,  who  was  single  on 
another  leaf,  and  talking  *o  himself.  Being  amused 
«mn  his  soliloquy,  I  put  it  down  in  writing,  in  hope* 


ESSAYS.  149 

It  will  likewise  amuse  her  to  whom  I  am  so  much 
indebted  for  the  most  pleasing  of  all  amusements, 
her  delicious  company  and  heavenly  harmony. 

"  It  was,"  says  he,  "  the  opinion  of  learned  phi 
losophers  of  our"  race,  who  lived  and  flourished  Ion? 
before  i,iy  time,  that  this  vast  world,  the  Moulin  Joty 
could  not  itself  subsist  more  than  eighteen  hours . 
and  I  think  there  was  some  foundation  for  that  opi 
nion  ;  since,  by  the  apparent  motion  of  the  great  lu 
minary,  that  gives  life  to  all  nature,  and  which  i 
my  time  has  evidently  declined  considerably  toward 
the  ocean  at  the  end  of  the  earth,  it  must  then  finish 
its  course,  be  extinguished  in  the  waters  that  sur 
round  us,  and  leave  the  world  in  cold  and  darkness, 
necessarily  producing  universal  death  and  destruc 
tion.     1  have  lived  7  of  those  hours ;  a  great  age,  being 
no  less  than  420  minutes  of  time  !  How  very  few  ol 
us  continue  so  long?  I  have  seen  generations  born, 
flourish,  and  expire.     My  present  friends  are  chil 
Jien  and  grand-children  of  the  friends  of  my  youth, 
who  are  now,  alas,  no  more !  And  I  must  soon  fol 
low  them  ;   for,   by  the  common  course  of  nature, 
'hough  still  in  health,  I  cannot  expect  to  live  above 
even  or  eight  minutes  longer.     What  now  avails  all 
ny   toil  and    labour,  in   amassing    the  honty-dew 
m  this  leaf,  which  I  cannot  live  to  enjoy.     What 
ny  political  struggles  I  have  been  engaged  in,  for  the 
rood  of  my  compatriot  inhabitants  of  this  bush,  or 
ny  philosophical  studies,  for  the  benefit  of  our  race 
•.i  general:  for  in  politics  (what  can  laws  do  with- 
Hit  morals?)  our  present  race  of  ephemerae  will  in  a 
Bourse  of  minutes  became  corrupt,  like  those  of  othei 
uid  older  bushes,  and  consequently  as  wretched.' 
Ind  in  philosophy  how  small  our  progress.     Alas 
<jt  is  long,  anil  life  is  short !  My  friends  would  com 
m  me  with  the  idea  of  a  name,  they  say,  I  shall 
jave  behind  me ;  and  they  tell  me  I  have  lived  long 
nough  to  nature  and  to  glory.     But  what  will  fame 
c  to  an  ephemerae  who  no  longer  exists?  and  what 
vill  become  of  all  history  in  the  eighteenth  hour, 
/hen  the  world  itself,  even  the  whole  Moulin  Joly, 
•mil  come  to  its  end,  and  be  buried  in  an  universal 
lin  ?" 


150  ESSAYS. 

To  me,  after  all  my  eager  pursuits,  no  sobd  plea 
sures  new  remain,  but  the  reflection  of  a  long  life 
spent  in  meaning  well,  the  sensible  conversation  of  a 
few  good  lady  ephemerae,  and  now  and  then  a  kind 
smile  and  a  tur»e  from  the  ever  amiable,  Brillisrit. 
B.  FRANKLIN. 


a 


MORALS  OF  CHESS. 

PLAYING  at  chess  is  the  most  ancient  and  univer 
sal  game  known  among  men  ;  for  its  original  is  be 
yond  the  memory  of  history,  and  it  has,  for  number 
less  ages,  been  the  amusement  of  all  the  civilized 
nations  of  Asia,  the  Persians,  the  Indians,  and  the 
Chinese.  Europe  has  had  it  above  a  thousand  years ; 
the  Spaniards  have  spread  it  over  their  parts  of 
America,  and  it  begins  to  make  its  appearance  in 
these  States.  It  is  so  interesting  in  itself,  as  not  to 
need  the  view  of  gain  to  induce  engaging  in  it ;  and 
thence  it  is  never  played  for  money.  Those,  there 
fore,  who  have  leisure  for  such  diversions,  cannot 
find  one  that  is  more  innocent ;  and  the  following 
piece,  written  with  a  view  to  correct  (among  a  few 
young  friends)  some  little  improprieties  in  the  prac 
tice  of  it,  shows,  at  the  same  time,  that  it  may:  in 
its  effects  on  the  mind,  be  not  merely  innocent,  but 
advantageous,  to  the  vanquishei  as  well  as  the 
victor. 

The  game  of  chess  is  not  merely  an  idle  amuse 
ment.  Several  very  valuable  qualities  of  the  mind 
useful  in  the  course  of  human  life,  are  to  be  acquirea 
or  strengthened  by  it,  so  as  to  become  habits,  ready 
on  all  occasions.  For  life  is  a  kind  of  chess,  in 
which  we  have  points  to  gain,  and  competitors  or 
adversaries  to  contend  with,  and  in  winch  there  is  a 
vast  variety* of  good  and  ill  events,  that  are,  in  fome 
degree,  the  effects  of  prudence  or  the  want  of  it.  By  j 
playing  at  chess  then,  we  learn, 

I.  Foresight,  which  looks  a  little  into  futurity, 
considers  the  consequences  that  may  attend  an  ac 
tion  •,  for  it  is  continually  occurring  to  the  player, 


ESSAYS.  151 

"If  I  move  this  piece,  what  will  be  th~e  advantage  of 
my  new  situation?  What  use  can  my  ackersary 
make  of  it  to  annoy  me  ?  What  other  moves  can  I 
make  to  support  it,  and  to  defend  myself  from  his 
attacks !" 

II.  Circumspection,  which  surveys  the  whole  chess 
board,  or  scene  of  action,  the  relations  of  the  several 
pieces  and  situations,   the  dangers  they  are  respec 
tively  exposed  to,  the  several  possibilities  of  their 
aiding  each  other,  the  probabilities  that  the  adver 
sary  may  take  this  or  that  move,  and  attack  this  01 
the  other  piece,  and  what  different  means  can  be 
used  to  avoid  his  stroke,   or  turn  its  consequences 
against  him. 

III.  Caution,  not  to  make  our  moves  too  hastily. 
This  habit  is  best  acquired  by  observing  strictly  the 
laws  of  the  game,  such  as,   "  If  you  touch  a  piece, 
you  must  move  it  somewhere  ;  if  you  set  it  down  you 
must  let  it  stand :"  and  it  is  therefore  best  that  these 
rules  should  be  observed ;  as  the  game  thereby  be 
comes  more  the  image  of  human  life,  and  particu 
larly  of  war;  in  which,  if  you  have  incautiously  put 
yourself  into  a  bad  and  dangerous  position,  you  can 
not  obtain  your  enemy's  leave   to  withdraw  your 
troops,  and  place  them  more  securely,  but  you  must 
abide  all  i-'ie  conee'juences  of  your  rashness. 

And,  lastly,  we  learn  by  chess  the  habit  of  not 
being  discouraged  by  present  bad  appearances  in  the 
state  of  our  affairs,  the  habit  of  hoping  for  a  favour 
able  change,  an-d  that  of  persevering  in  the  search  of 
resources.  The  game  is  so  full  of  events,  there  is  such 
a  variety  of  turns  in  it,  the  fortune  of  it  is  WD  sub 
ject  to  3udden  vicissitudes,  and  one  so  frequently, 
ifter  long  contemplation,  discovers  the  means  of  ex- 
ricating  one's  self  from  a  supposed  insurmountable 
difficulty,  that  one  is  encouraged  to  continue  the  con 
test  to  Che  last,  in  hope  of  victory  by  our  own  skill, 
or  at  least  of  giving  a  stale  mate,  by  the  negligence  of 
our  adversary.  And  whoever  considers,  what  in 
chess  he  often  sees  instances  of,  that  particular  pieces 
of  success  are  apt  to  produce  presumption,  and  its 
consequent  inattention,  by  which  the  loss  may  be  t*e 
covered,  will  learn  not  to  be  too  «iurh  discouraged  by 


H2  ESSAYS. 

the  present  success  of  his  adversary,  nor  to  despair  of 
final  good  fortune,  upon  every  little  check  he  receives 
,n  the  pursuit  of  it. 

That  we  may,  therefore,  be  induced  more  fre 
quently  too  choose  this  beneficial  amusement,  in  pre 
ference  to  others,  which  are  not  attended  with  the 
same  advantages,  every  circumstance  which  may 
increase  the  pleasure  of  it  should  be  regarded ;  and 
every  action  or  word  that  is  unfair,  disrespectful,  or 
that  in  any  way  may  give  uneasiness,  should  he 
avoided,  as  contrary  to  the  immediate  intention  oi 
both  the  players,  which  is  to  pass  the  time  agreeably. 

Therefore,  first,  If  it  is  agreed  to  play  according  ta 
the  strictest  rules  ;  then  those  rules  are  to  be  exactly 
observed  by  both  parties,  and  should  not  be  insisted 
on  for  one  side,  while  deviated  from  by  the  other— 
for  this  is  not  equitable. 

Secondly,  If  it  is  agreed  not  to  observe  the  rules 
exactly,  but  one  party  demands  indulgences,  he 
should  then  be  as  willing  to  allow  them  to  the  other. 

Thirdly,  No  false  move  should  ever  be  made  to 
extricate  yourself  out  of  a  difficulty,  or  to  gain  an 
advantage.  There  can  be  no  pleasure  in  playing 
with  a  person  once  detected  in  such  unfair  practices. 

Fourthly,  If  your  adversary  is  long  in  playing, 
you  ought  not  to  hurry  him,  or  to  express  any  un 
easiness  at  his  delay.  You  should  not  sing,  nor 
whistle,  nor  look  at  your  watch,  nor  take  up  a  book 
to  read,  nor  make  a  tapping  with  your  feet  on  the 
tioor,  or  with  your  fingers  on  the  table,  nor  do  any 
thing  that  may  disturb  his  attention.  For  all  these 
things  displease;  and  they  eto  not  show  your  skill  in 
playing,  but  your  craftiness  or  your  rudeness. 

Fifthly,  You  ought  not  to  endeavour  to  amuse 
and  deceive  your  adversary,  by  pretending  to  have 
made  bad  moves,  and  saying  that  you  have  now  lost 
the  game,  in  order  to  make  him  secure  and  careless, 
and  inattentive  to  your  schemes:  for  this  is  fiattd 
and  deceit,  not  skill  in  the  game. 

Sixthly,  You  must  not,  when  you  have  gained  a 
victory,  use  any  triumphing  or  insulting  expression, 
nor  show  toe  much  pleasure ;  but  endeavour  to  con- 
4ole  your  adv^-sary,  and  make  him  Issu  dissatisfied 


BSSAYS.  ft3 

with  himself,  by  every  kind  of  civil  expression  that 
may  be  used  with  truth ;  such  as,  "  You  understand 
the  game  better  than  I,  but  you  are  a  little  inattentive; 
or,  you  play  too  fast;  or,  you  had  the  best  of  the 
game,  but  something  happened  to  divert  your 
thoughts,  and  that  turned  it  in  my  favour." 

Seventhly,  If  you  are  a  spectator  while  others  play, 
observe  the  most  perfect  silence.  For  if  you  giv« 
advice,  you  offend  both  parties;  him  against  whom 
5-011  give  it,  because  it  may  cause  the  loss  of  his  game 
and  him,  in  whose  favour  you  gave  it,  because, 
though  *it  be  good,  anjd  he  follows  it,  he  loses  the 
pleasure  he  might  have  had,  ifjrou  had  permitted 
him  to  think  until  it  had  occurred  to  himself.  Even 
after  a  move,  or  moves,  you  must  not,  by  replacing 
the  pieces,  show  how  it  might  have  been  placed  bet 
ter  ;  for  that  displeases,  and  may  occasion  dispute* 
and  doubts  about  their  true  situation.  All  talking 
to  the  players  lessens  or  diverts  their  attention,  and 
is  therefore  unpleasing.  Nor  should  you  give  the 
least  hint  to  either  party,  by  any  kind  of  noise  or 
motion.  If  you  do,  you  are  unworthy  to  be  a  spec 
tator.  If  you  have  a  mind  to  exercise  or  show  your 
judgment,  do  it  in  playing  your  own  game,  when  you 
have  an  opportunity,  not  in  criticising,  or  meddling 
with,  or  counselling  the  play  of  others. 

Lastly,  If  the  game  is  not  to  be  played  rigorously, 
according  to  the  rules  above  mentioned,  then  mode 
rate  your  desire  of  victory  over  your  ndversary,  and 
be  pleased  with  one  over  yourself.  Snatch  not  ea 
gerly  a*  every  advantage  offered  by  his  unskilfulnesft 
or  inattention  ;  but  point  out  to  him  kindly,  that  bf 
such  a  move  he  places  or  leaves  a  piece  in  dange? 
and  unsupported ;  that  by  another  he  will  put  hip 
king  in  a  perilous  situation,  &c.  By  this  generoi* 
civility  (so  opposite  to  the  unfairness  above  forbid 
den)  you  may,  indeed,  happen  to  lose  the  game  tt 
your  own  opponent,  but  you  will  win  what  is  bet 
ter,  his  esteem,  his  respect,  and  his  affection ;  to 
gether  with  the  silent  approbation  and  good-will  tf 
impartial  spectators. 


154  ESSAYS. 

THE  ART  OF  PROCURING  PLEASANT 
DREAMS. 

Inscribed  to  Miss  *  *  *, 

BEING    WRITTEN    AT    HER    REQUEST. 

As  a  great  part  of  om  life  is  spfent  in  sleep,  durinp 
which  we  ha/e  sometimes  pleasing  and  sometime 
painful  dreams,  it  becomes  of  some  consequence  to 
obtain  the  one  kind,  and  avoid  the  other ;  for  whe 
ther  real  or  imaginary,  pain  is  pain,  and  pleasure  if 
pleasure.  If  \ve  can  sleep  without  dreaming,  it  is 
well  that  painful  dreams  are  avoided.  If,  while  we 
sleep,  we  can  have  any  pleasing  dreams,  it  is,  as  the 
French  say,  iant  gague,  so  much  added  «  *«2  plea 
sure  of  life. 

To  this  end  it  is,  in  the  first  place,  necessary  to  be 
careful  in  preserving  health,  by  due  exercise  and 
great  temperance  ;  for,  in  sickness,  the  imagination 
is  disturbed  ;  and  disagreeable,  sometimes  terrible 
idsas  are  apt  to  present  themselves.  Exercise  should 
precede  meals,  not  immediately  follow  them :  the 
first  promotes*  the  latter,  unless  moderate,  obstructs 
digestion.  If  after  exercise,  we  feed  sparingly,  the 
digestion  will  be  easy  and  good,  the  body  lightsome, 
the  temper  cheerful,  and  all  the  animal  functions 
performed  agreeable.  Sleep,  when  it  follows,  will 
be  natural  and  undisturbed.  While  indolence,  with 
full  feeding,  occasions  night-mares  and  horrors  inex 
pressible  :  we  fall  from  precipices,  are  assaulted  by 
wild  beasts,  murderers,  and  demons,  and  experience 
every  variety  of  distress.  Observe,  however,  that 
he  quantities  of  food  and  exercise  are  relative  things: 
hose  who  move  much  may,  and  indeed  ought,  to  eat 
more  ;  those  who  use  little  exercise,  should  eat  little. 
In  general,  mankind,  since  the  improvement  of  cook 
ery,  eat  about  twice  as  much  as  nature  requires 
Suppers  are  not  bad,  if  we  have  not  dined;  but  rest 
less  nights  naturally  follow  hearty  suppers,  after  full 
dinners.  Indeed,  as  there  is  a  difference  in  tonsti 
tutions,  some  rest  well  after  these  meals ;  it  costs 
them  only  a  frightful  drearn  and  an  apoplexy,  afta 


ESSAYS.  155 

which  they  sleep  till  doomsday.  Nothing  is  more 
common  in  the  newspapers,  than  instances  of  peo 
ple,  who,  after  eating  a  hearty  supper,  are  found  dead 
a-bed  in  the  morning. 

Another  means  of  preserving  health,  to  be  attend 
ed  to,  is  the  having  a  constant  supply  of  fresh  air  in 
your  bed-chamber.  It  has  been  a  great  mistake,  the 
sleeping  hi  rooms  exactly  closed,  and  in  beds  sur 
ounded  by  curtains.  JNo  outward  ah,  that  may 
«ome  into  you,  is  so  unwholesome  as  the  unchanged 
air,  often  breathed,  of  a  close  chamber.  As  boilinj 
water  does  not  grow  hotter  by  longer  boiling,  if  tha  . 
particle*  that  receive  greater  heat  can  escape ;  so  liv 
ing  bodies  do  not  putrefy,  if  the  particles,  as  fast  as 
they  become  putrid,  can  be  thrown  off.  Nature  ex 
pels  them  by  the  pores  of  the  skin  and  lungs,  and  in 
a  free  open  air,  they  are  carried  off;  but,  in  a  close 
room,  we  receive  them  again  and  again,  though  they 
become  more  and  more  corrupt.  A  number  of  per 
sons  crowded  into  a  small  room,  thus  spoil  the  air  in 
a  few  minutes,  and  even  render  it  mortal,  as  in  tha 
Black  Hole  at  Calcutta.  A  single  person  is  said 
only  to  spoil  a  gallon  of  air  per  minute,  and  there 
fore  requires  a  longer  time  to  spoil  a  chamberful , 
but  it  is  done,  however,  in  proportion,  and  many 
putrid  disorders  have  hence  their  origin.  It  is  re 
corded  of  Methusalem,  who,  being  the  longest  liver, 
may  be  supposed  to  have  best  preserved  his  health, 
that  he  slept  always  in  the  open  air ;  for  when  he  had 
lived  five  hundred  years,  an  angel  said  to  him, 
u  Arise,  Methusalem,  and  build  thee  an  house,  foi 
thou  shalt  iive  yet  five  hundred  years  longer."  But 
Methusaiem  answered  and  said ;  "  If  1  am  to  liva 
but  five  hundred  years  longer,  it  is  not  worth  whil 
to  build  me  an  house — 1  will  sleep  in  the  air  as 
have  been  used  to  do."  Physicians  after  having  fo 
ages  contended  that  the  sick  should  not  be  indulged 
with  fresh  air,  have  at  length  discovered  .that  it  may 
do  them  good.  It  is  therefore  to  be  hoped,  that  they 
may  in  time  discover  likewise,  that  it  is  not  hurtful  to 
those  who  are  in  health  ;  and  that  we  may  then  be 
cured  of  ihe  aerophobia  that  at  present  distresses 
weak  minds,  and  makes  them  choose  to  be  stif^d  and 
7  * 


156  ESSAYS. 

noisoned,  rather  than  leave  open  the  window  of  a 
ucd  chamber,  or  put  down  the  glass  of  a  coach. 
Confined  air,  when  saturated  with  perspirable 
matter,*  will  not  receive  more  ;  and  that  matter  must 
remain  in  our  bodies,  and  occasion  diseases  :  but  to 
give  some  previous  notice  of  its  being  about  to  be 
hurtful,  by  producing  certain  uneasiness,  slight  in 
deed  at  first,  such  as,  with  regard  to  the  lungs,  is  a 
trifling  sensation,  and  to  the  pores  of  the  skin  a  kind 
cf  restlessness  which  is  difficult  to  describe,  and  few 
that  feel  it  know  the  cause  of  it.  But  we  may  re 
collect,  that  sometimes,  on  waking  in  the  night,  we 
have,  if  warmly  covered,  found  it  difficult  to  get  to 
sleep  again.  We  turn  often,  without  finding  repose 
in  any  position,  'ihis  figettiness,  to  use  a  vulgar 
expression  for  want  of  a  better,  is  occasioned  wholly 
by  an  uneasiness  in  the  skin,  owing  to  the  retention 
of  the  perspirable  matter — the  bed-clothes  having 
received  their  quantity,  and,  being  saturated,  refusing 
to  take  any  more.  To  become  sensible  of  this  by  an 
experiment,  let  a  person  keep  his  position  in  the  bed, 
but  throw  off  the  bed-clothes  and  suffer  fresh  air  to 
approach  the  part  uncovered  of  his  body  ;  he  will 
nen  feel  that  part  suddenly  reiresneii ;  for  the  air 
will  immediately  relieve  the  skm,  by  receiving,  lick- 
fng  up,  and  carrying  off,  the  load  of  perspirable  mat- 
:er  that  incommoded  it.  For  every  portion  of  cool 
air  that  approaches  the  warm  skin,  in  receiving  its 
part  of  that  vapour,  receives  therewith  a  Jegree  of 
neat,  that  rarefies  and  renders  it  lighter,  wh^n  it  will 
be  pushed  away,  with  its  burden,  by  cooler  and  there 
fore  heavier  fresh  air;  which,  for  a  moment,  sup- 
lies  its  place,  and  then,  being  likewise  '.hanged, 
and  warmed,  gives  way  to  a  succeeding  quantity. 
This  is  the  order  of  nature,  to  prevent  annuals  be- 
ng  infected  by  then  own  perspiration.  Ho  will  now 
be  sensible  of  the  difference  between  the  part  exposed 


*  What  physician!  call  the  perspirable  matter,  iij  tV-«t  vaprmr 
••Moh  passes  off  from  our  bodies,  from  the  Jungs,  and  through  *he  pored 
•*\*<t  acin.  The  quantity  of  this  it  said  to  be  five- eights  of  what  Tft 


ESSAYS.  157 

to  the  air,  and  that  which,  remaining  sunk  in  the 
bed,  denies  the  air  access :  for  this  part  now  mani 
fests  its  uneasiness  more  distinctly  by  the  cnmpari 
son,  and  the  seat  of  the  uneasiness  is  more  plainly 
perceived,  than  when  the  whole  surface  of  the  body 
was  affected  by  it. 

Here  then  is  one  great  and  general  cause  of  im 
pleasing  dreams.  For  when  the  body  is  uneasy,  tho 
mind  will  be  disturbed  by  it,  and  disagreeable  ideas 
|f  various  kinds  will,  in  sleep,  be  the  natural  conse 
quences.  The  remedies,  preventive  and  curative, 
follow. 

1.  By  eating  moderately  (as  before  advised   for 
health's  sake)  less  perspirable  matter  is  produced  in  a 
given  time  ;   hence  the  bed-clothes  receive  it  longer 
be^Jre  they  are  saturated ;  and  we  may,   therefore, 
'"^eep  longer,  before  we  are  made  uneasy  by  their  re 
fusing  to  receive  any  more. 

2.  By  using  thinner  and  more  porous  bed-clothes, 
which  wiil  suffer  the  perspirabte  matter  more  easily 
to  pass  through  them,  we  are  less  incommoded,  such 
being  logger  tolerable. 

3.  When  you  are  awakened   by  this  uneasiness, 
and  find  you  cannot  easily  sleep  again,  get  out  of  bed, 
beat  up  and  turn  your  pillow,  shake  the  bed  clothes 
well,  with   at  least  twenty  shakes,   then  throw  the 
bed  open,  and  leave  it  to  cool ;  in  the  meanwhile, 
continuing  undrest,  walk  about  your  chamber,  till 
your  skin  has  had  time  to  discharge  its  load,  which 
it  will  do  sooner  as  the  air  may  be  drier  and  colder. 
When  you  begin  to  feel  the  cold  air  unpleasant,  then 
return  to  your  bed ;  and  you  w'll  soon  fall  asleep, 
and  your  sleep  will  be  sweet  and  pleasant.     All  the 
Scenes  presented  to  your  fancy  will  be  of  the  pleasing 
fcind.   I  am  often  as  agreeably  entertained  with  them, 
as  by  the  scenery  of  an  opera.     If  you  happen  to  be 
too  indolent  to  get  out  of  bed,  you  may,  instead  oi  it, 
lift  your  bed-clothes  with  one  arm  and  leg,  so  as  to 
draw  in  a  good  deal  of  fresh  air,  and  by  letting  them 
fall,  force  it  oirt  again  ;  this,  repeated  twenty  times, 
will  so  e  3ar  them   of  the  pe  spirable  matter  they 
have  'mboed,  as  to  perrr«t  v;;r  sleeping  well  fojf 


158  ESSAYS. 

some  time  afterwards.  But  this  latter  method  Is 
not  equal  to  the  former. 

Those  who  do  not  love  trouble,  and  can  afford  to 
have  Ivvo  beds,  will  find  great  luxury  in  rising,  when 
they  wake  in  a  hot  bed,  and  going  into  the  cool  one. 
Such  shifting  ot  beds  would  also  be  of  great  service 
to  persons  ill  of  a  fever,  as  it  refreshes  and  frequently 
procures  sleep.  A  very  large  bed,  that  will  admit  a 
removal  so  distant  from  the  first  situation  as  to  be 
cool  and  sweet,  may  in  a  degree  answer  the  samfl 
eno. 

One  or  two  observations  more  will  conclude  this 
tittle  piece.  Care  must  be  taken,  when  you  lie 
clown,  to  dispose  your  pillow  so  as  to  suit  your  man 
ner  of  placing  your  head,  and  to  be  perfectly  easy  ; 
then  place  your  limbs  so  as  not  to  bear  inconvenient 
ly  hard  upon  one  another;  as  for  instance,  the  joints 
of  your  ancles  :  for  though  a  bad  position  may  at  first 
give  but  little  pain,  and  be  hardly  noticed,  yet  a  con 
tinuance  will  render  it  less  tolerable,  and  the  uneasi 
ness  may  come  on  while  you  are  asleep,  and  disturb 
your  imagination. 

These  are  the  rules  of  the  art.  Bui  though  they 
will  generally  prove  effectual  in  producing  the  end 
intended,  there  is  a  case  in  which  the  most  punctual 
observance  of  them  will  be  totally  fruitless.  I  need 
not  mention  the  case  to  you,  my  dear  friend  :  but  my 
account  of  the  art  would  be  imperfect  without  it. 
The  case  is,  when  the  person  who  desires  to  hava 
the  pleasant  dreams  has  not  taken  care  to  preserve 
k  what  is  necessary,  above  all  things, 

1  A  GOOD  CONSCIENCE. 


ESSAYS.  t® 

ADVICE  TO  A  YOUNG  TRADESMAN. 
Written  anno  1748. 

TO    MY    FRIEND,    A.    B. 

At  /ou  have  desired  it  of  me,  T  write  the  following 
amis,  which  have  been  of  service  to  me,  and  may 
if  observed,  be  so  to  you. 

REMEMBER  that  time  is  money.  He  that  can  earn 
ten  shillings  a-day  by  his  labour,  and  goes  abroad, 
'jrt  sits  idle  one  half  of  that  day,  though  he  spends 
byt  six  pence  during  his  diversion  OT  idleness  ought 
nA  to  reckon  tkat  the  only  expense;  he  has  really 
sjrnt,  or  rather  thrown  away,  five  shillings  besides. 

Remember  that  credit  is  money.  If  a  man  lets  his 
money  lie  in  my  hands  after  it  is  due,  he  gives  me 
the  interest,  or  so  much  as  I  can  make  of  it  during 
that  time.  This  amounts  to  a  considerable  surn 
where  a  man  has  good  and  large  credit,  ami  makes 
good  use  of  it, 

Remember  that  money  is  of  a  prolific  generating 
nature.  Money  can  beget  money,  and  hsoffsp.vng 
can  beget  more,  and  so  on.  Five  shillings  turned  is 
six  ;  turned  again  is  seven  and  three  pence  ;  and  so 
•n  till  it  become?  an  hundred  pounds.  The  more 
there  is  of  it,  the  more  it  produces  every  turning,  so 
that  the  profits  n<*  quicker  and  quicker.  lie  that 
kills  a  breeding  sov»,  destroys  all  her  offspring  to  the 
thousandth  generatiiio.  He  that  murders  a  crown, 
destroys  all  that  it  mignt  have  produced,  even  scores 
r>f  pounds. 

Remember  that  six  oounds  a-year  is  but  a  groal 
a-day.  For  this  littl«  sum  (which  may  be  daily 
wasted  either  in  time  or  expense,  unperceived)  a 
man  of  credit  may,  on  his  own  security,  have  the 
constant  possession  and  use  of  an  hundred  pounds. 
So  much  in  stock,  briskly  turned  by  an  industrious 
man,  produces  great  advantage. 

Remember  this  saying.  "  The  good  paymaster  if 
lord  of  another  man's  j>urse."  He  that  is  known  lo 


1GO  ESSAYS. 

pay  punctually  and  exactly  to  the  t'me  he  promises, 
may  at  any  time,  and  on  any  occasi  in,  raise  all  th« 
money  his  friends  can  spare.  This  is  sometimes  of 
great  use.  After  industry  and  frugality,  nothing  con 
tributes  more  to  the  raising  of  a  yot'ng  man  in  the 
world,  than  punctuality  and  justice  in  all  his  deal 
ings  :  therefore  never  keep  borrowed  money  an  hour 
beyond  the  time  you  promised,  lest  a  disappointment 
shut  up  your  friend's  purse  for  ever. 

The  most  trifling  actions  that  affect  a  man's  cre 
dit  are  to  he  regarded.  The  sound  of  your  hammer 
at  five  in  the  morning,  or  nine  at  night,  heard  by  a 
creditor,  makes  him  easy  six  months  longer :  but  if 
he  sees  you  at  a  billiard-table,  or  hears  your  voice  at 
a  tavern,  when  you  should  be  at  work,  he  sends  for 
his  money  the  next  day ;  demands  it  before  lie  can 
receive  it  in  a  lump. 

It  shows,  besides,  that  you  are  mindful  of  what 
you  owe ;  it  makes  you  appear  a  careful  as  well  a.a 
an  honest  man,  and  that  still  increases  your  credit. 

Beware  of  thinking  all  your  own  that  you  possess, 
asi'i  of  living  accordingly.  It  is  a  mistake  that  man} 
necple  who  have  credit  fall  into.  To  prevent  this, 
keep  an  exact  account,  for  some  time,  both  of  your 
expenses  and  your  income.  If  you  take  the  pains  at 
first  to  mention  particulars,  it  will  have  this  good 
effect ;  you  will  discover  how  wonderfully  small  tri 
fling  expenses  mount  up  to  large  sums,  and  will  dis 
cern  what  might  have  been,  and  may  for  the  future 
be  saved,  without  occasioning  any  great  inconve 
nience. 

In  short,  the  way  to  wealth,  if  you  desire  it,  is  as 
plain  as  the  way  to  market.  It  depends  chiefly  on 
two  words,  industry  and  frugality ;  that  is,  waste 
neither  time  nor  money,  but  make  the  best  use  of  both 
Without  industry  and  frugality  nothing  will  do,  and 
with  them  every  thing.  He  that  gets  ail  he  can 
honestly,  and  saves  all  he  gets  (necessary  expences 
excepted),  will  certainly  become  rich — if  that  Being, 
who  governs  the  world,  to  whom  all  should  look  for 
a  blessing  on  their  honest  endeavours,  doth  not  in  his 
wise  providence  otherwise  determine. 

AN  OLD  TRADESMAN 


ESSAYS.  161 

NECESSARY  HINTS  TO  THOSE  THAT 
WOULD  BE  RICH. 

WRITTEN    ANNO    1  736. 

THE  use  of  money  is  all  the  advantage  there  is  in 
having  money. 

For  six  pounds  a-year  you  may  have  the  use  of  one 
hundred  pounds,  provided  you  are  a  man  of  known 
'arudence  and  honesty. 

He  that  spends  a  groat  a-day  idly,  spends  idly 
above  six  pounds  a-year,  which  is  tiie  price  for  th 
use  of  one  hundred  pounds. 

He  that  wastes  idly  a  gioat's  worth  of  his  time  per 
day,  one  day  with  another,  wastes  the  privilege  of 
using  one  hundred  pounds  each  year. 

He  that  idly  loses  five  shillings  worth  of  time  loses 
fre  shillings,  and  might  as  prudently  throw  five 
shillings  into  the  sea. 

He  that  loses  five  shillings,  not  only  loses  that  sum, 
but  all  the  advantages  that  might  be  made  by  turning 
it  in  dealing;  which,  by  the  time  that  a  young  man 
becomes  old,  will  amount  to  a  considerable  sum  of 
money. 

Again  ;  he  that  sells  upon  credit,  asks  a  price  for 
what  he  sells  equivalent  to  the  principal  and  interest 
of  his  money  for  the  time  he  is  to  be  kept  out  of  it ; 
therefore,  he  that  buys  upon  credit,  pays  interest  for 
A-hat  he  buys;  and  he  that  pays  ready  money,  might 
let  that  money  out  to  use ;  so  that  he  that  possesses 
any  thing  he  has  bought,  pays  interest  for  the  use  of  it 

Vet,  in  buying  goods,  it  is  best  to  pay  ready  money 
oecause,  he  that  sells  upon  credit,  expects  to  lose  fivo 

!>er  cent,  by  bad  debts ;  therefore  lie  charges,  on  all 
IQ  sells  upon  credit,  an  advance  that  shall  make  up 
that  deficiency. 

Those  who  pay  for  what  they  buy  upon  credit,  pay 
.heir  share  of  this  advance. 

He  that  pays  ready  money,  escapes,  or  may  escape 
that  charge. 

A  penny  sav'd  is  twopence  clear  ; 
A  pin  a  day's  a  groat  a  year. 


3  ESSAYS.' 

THE  WAY  TO  MAKE  MONEY  PLENTY 
IN  EVERY  MAN'S  POCKET. 


At  this  time,  wnen  the  general  complaint  is  that— 
*  money  is  scarce,"  it  will  be  an  act  of  kindness  to 
nt'.rm  the  moneyless  how  they  may  reinforce  their 
pockets.  1  will  acquaint  them  with  the  true  secret 
of  money-cafcching — the  certain  way  to  fill  empty 
purses — and  how  to  keep  them  always  full.  TWG 
simple  rules,  well  observed,  will  do  the  business. 

Frst,  Let  honesty  and  Industry  be  thy  constant 
companions ;  and, 

Secondly,  Spend  one  penny  less  than  thy  cleai 
gains. 

Then  shall  thy  hide-bound  pocket  soon  begin  to 
thrive,  and  will  never  again  cry  with  the  empty  belly 
ach  :  neither  will  creditors  insult  thee,  nor  want  op 
press,  no  hunger  bite,  nor  nakedness  freeze  thee. 
The  whole  hemisphere  will  shine  brigher,  and  plea 
sure  spring  up  in  every  corner  of  thy  heart.  Now, 
therefore,  embrace  these  rules  and  be  happy.  Banish 
the  bleak  winds  of  sorrow  from  thy  mind,  and  live 
independent.  Then  shalt  thou  be  a  man,  and  not 
hide  thy  face  at  the  approach  of  the  rich,  nor  suffer 
Vhe  pain  of  feeling  little  when  the  sons  of  fortune 
walk  at  thy  right  hand  :  for  independency,  whether 
with  Iktle  or  much,  is  good  fortune,  and  placeth  thee 
on  even  ground  with  the  proudest  of  the  goldeit 
eece.  Oh,  then,  be  wise,  and  let  industry  walk  with 
hee  in  the  morning,  and  attend  thee  until  thou 
eachest  the  evening  hour  for  rest.  Let  honesty  be 
s  the  breath  of  thy  soul,  and  never  forget  to  have  a 
penny,  when  all  thy  expenses  are  enumerated  and 
paid  :  then  shalt  thou  reach  the  point  of  happiness, 
and  independence  shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler, 
thy  helmet  and  crown  ;  then  shall  thy  soul  walk 
upright,  nor  stoop  to  the  silken  wretch  because  he 
hath  rich«s,  nor  pocket  an  abuse  because  the  hand 
which  offers  it  wears  a  ring  set  with  diamonds. 


ESSAYS.  163 


AN  ECONOMICAL  PROJECT 

A  translation  of  this  Letter  appeared  in  one  of  the 
daily  papers  of  Paris  about  the  year  1 784.  The 
following  is  the  origin-al  piece,  with  some  addi 
tions  and  corrections  made  by  the  Author. 

To  the  Authors  of  the  Journal, 


Yon  often  entertain  us  with  accounts  of  new  disco 
veries.     Permit  me  to  communicate  to  the  public  • 
through  your  paper,  one  that  has  lately  been  made 
by  myself,  and  which  I  conceive  may  be  of  great 
utility. 

I  was  the  other  evening  in  a  grand  company, 
where  the  new  lamp  of  Messrs.  Quinquet  and  Lange 
was  introduced,  and  much  admired  for  its  splen 
dour  ;  but  a  general  inquiry  was  made,  whether  the 
oil  it  consumed  was  not  in  proportion  to  the  light  it 
afforded,  -n  which  case  there  would  be  no  saving  in 
the  use  of  it.  No  one  present  could  satisfy  us  in  that 
point,  which  all  agreed  ought  to  be  known,  it  being  a 
very  desirable  thing  to  lessen,  if  possible,  the  ex 
pense  of  lighting  our  apartments,  when  every  other 
article  t)f  family  expense  was  so  much  augmented. 

I  was  pleased  to  see  this  general  concern  for 
economy,  for  I  love  economy  exceedingly. 

I  went  home,  and  to  bed,  three  or  four  hours  after 
midnight,  with  my  head  full  of  the  subject.  An  ac 
cidental  sudden  noise  waked  me  about  six  in  the 
morning,  when  I  was  surprised  to  find  rny  room  filled 
with  light ;  and  I  imagined  at  first,  that  a  number  of 
those  lamps  had  .been  brought  into  it :  but,  rubbing 
my  eyes,  I  perceived  the  light  came  in  at  the  win 
dows.  I  got  up  and  looked  out  to  see  what  might  be 
the  occasion  of  it,  when  I  saw  the  sun  just  rising 
above  the  horizon,  from  whence  he  poured  his  rays 
plentifully  into  my  chamber,  my  domestic  having 
negligently  omitted  the  preceding  evening  to  close 
the  shvittcn. 


164  ESSAYS 

I  looked  at  my  watch,  which  goes  very  well,  and 
found  that  it  was  about  six  o'clock  ;  and  still  think 
ing  it  something  extraordinary  tha*  the  sun  should 
rise  S9  early,  I  looked  into  the  almanack,  where  I 
found  it  to  be  the  hour  given  for  his  rising  on  that 
day.  I  looked  forward  too,  and  found  he  was  to  rise 
still  earlier  every  day  till  towards  the  end  of  June  ; 
and  that  at  no  time  in  the  year  he  retarded  his  rising 
so  long  as  till  eight  o'clock.  Your  readers,  who  with 
me  have  never  seen  any  signs  of  sunshine  befor 
noon,  and  seldom  regard  the  astronomical  part  o 
the  almanack,  will  be  as  much  astonished  as  I  was, 
when  they  hear  of  his  rising  so  early ;  and  especi- 
ally  when  I  assured  them,  thai  he  gives  light  as  soon 
as  he  rises.  1  am  convinced  of  this.  I  am  certain 
of  my  fact.  One  cannot  be  more  certain  of  any  fact. 
I  saw  it  with  rny  own  eyes.  And  having  repeated 
this  observation  the  three  following  mornings,  I  found 
always  precisely  the  same  result. 

Yet  it  so  happens,  that  when  I  speak  of  this  disco 
very  to  others,  I  can  easily  perceive  by  their  coun 
tenances,  though  they  forbear  expressing  it  in  words, 
that  they  do  not  quite  believe  me.  One,  indeed,  who 
is  a  learned  natural  philosopher,  has  assured  me,  that  I 
must  certainly  be  mistaken  as  to  the  circumstance  of  the 
light  coming  into  my  room  ;  for  it  being  well  known, 
as  he  says,  that  there  could  be  no  light  abroad  at  that 
hour,  it  follows  that  none  could  enter  from  without ; 
and  that  of  consequence,  my  windows  being  acci 
dentally  left  open,  instead  of  letting  in  the  light,  had 
only  served  to  let  out  the  darkness :  and  he  used  many 
ingenious  arguments  to  show  me  how  I  might,  by 
that  means,  have  been  deceived.  I  own  that  he  puz- 
tied  me  a  little,  but  he  did  not  satisfy  me  ;  and  the 
subsequent  observations  I  made,  as  above  mention* 
ed,  confirmed  me  in  my  first  opinion. 

This  event  has  given  rise,  in  iny  mind,  to  several 
serious  and  important  reflections.  I  considered  that, 
if  I  had  not  been  awakened  so  early  in  the  morning, 
I  should  have  slept  six  hours  longer  by  the  light  of 
the  sun,  and  in  exchange  have  lived  six  hours  the 
following  night  by  candle-light ;  and  the  latter  being 
a  much  more  expensive  light  than  the  formei\  my 


£SSAVS.  169 

/ove  of  economy  induced  me  to  muster  up  what  little 
nrithmetic  I  was  master  of,  and  to  make  some  cal 
culations,  which  I  shall  give  you,  after  observing, 
that  utility  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  test  of  value  in  mat 
ters  of  invention,  and  that  a  discovery  which  can 
be  applied  to  no  use,  or  is  nor.  good  for  something,  is 
good  for  nothing. 

I  took  for  the  basis  of  my  calculation  the  supposi 
tion,  that  there  are  100,000  families  in  Paris  and  thai 
hese  families  consume  in  the  night  half  a  pound  o 
bougies,  or  candles,  per  hour.  1  think  this  is  a  mo 
derate  allowance,  taking  one  family  with  another ;  for 
though  I  believe  some  consume  less,  I  know  that  many 
consume  a  great  deal  more.  Then  estimating  seven 
hours  per  day,as  the  medium  quantity  between  the  time 
of  the  sun's"  rising  and  ours,  he  rismg  during  the  six 
following  months  from  six  to  ei^ht  hours  before  noon, 
and  there  being  seven  hours  of  course  per  night  in 
which  we  burn  candles,  the  account  will  stand  thus  : 

In  the  six  months  between  the  twentieth  of  March 
and  the  twentieth  of  September,  there  are 

Nights -  183 

"dours  of  each  night  in  which  we  bum 

candles ' 

Multiplication  gives  for  the  total  number 

of  hours  ----------  1,281 

These  1,231  hours  multiplied  by  100,000, 

the  number  of  inhabitants  given  -  -  128,100,000 

One  hundred  twenty-eight  millions  and 
one  hundred  thousand  hours,  spent 
at  Paris  by  candle-light,  which  at  half 
a  pound  of  wax  and  tallow  per  hour, 
gives  the  weight  of 64,050,001 

Sixty-four  m'ilions  and  fifty  thousand  of 
pounds,  wmch,  estimating  the  whole  at 
the  medium  price  of  thirty  sols  the 
pound,  makes  the  sum  of  ninety-six 
millions  and  seventy-five  thousand 
iivrev  tnurnois 96,075.000 


ICO  ESSAYS. 

An'  immense  sum  !  that  the  city  of  Paris  imgnl 
save  every  year,  by  the  economy  of  using  sunshine 
instead  of  candles. 

If  it  should  be  said,  that  people  are  apt  to  be  ob 
stinately  attached  to  old  customs,  and  that  it  will 
be  difficult  to  induce  them  to  rise  before  noon,  conse 
quently  my  discovery  can  be  of  little  use  ;  I  answer, 
JVil  desperandum.     J  believe  all  who  have  common 
sense,  as  soon  as  they  have  learnt  from  this  paper 
that  it  is  day-light  when  the  sun  rises,  will  contriv  [ 
to  rise  with  him  ;  and,  to  compel  the  rest  I  wou.   \ 
propose  the  following  regulations : 

First.  Let  a  tax  be  laid  of  a  louis  per  window,  on 
very  window  that  is  provided  with  shutters  to  keep 
Hit  the  light  of  the  sun. 

Second.  Let  the  same  salutary  operation  of  po- 
*ice  be  made  use  of  to  prevent  our  burning  candles, 
ihat  inclined  us  last  winter  to  be  more  economical  in 
burning  wood ;  that  is,  let  guards  be  placed  in  the 
shops  of  the  wax  and  tallow-chandlers,  and  no  fami 
ly  be  permitted  to  be  supplied  with  more  than  one 
pound  of  candles  per  week. 

Third.  Let  guards  also  be  posted  to  stop  all  tho 
coaches,  &,c.  that  would  pass  the  streets  after  sun 
set,  except  those  of  physicians,  surgeons,  -~'J  mid 
wives. 

Fourth.  Every  morning,  as  soon  as  the  sun  ri 
ses,  let  all  the  bells  in  every  church  be  set  a  ring 
ing;  and  if  that  is  not  sufficient,  let  cannon  be 
fired  in  every  street,  to  wake  the  sluggards  effectu 
ally,  and  make  them  open  their  eyes  to  see  their  true 
interest. 

All  the  difficulty  will  be  in  the  first  two  or  threa 
days ;  after  which  the  reformation  will  be  as  natu 
al  and  easy  as  the  present  irregularity ;  for 
n'est  que  le  premier  pas  qui  voute.  Oblige  a  man  to 
rise  at  four  in  the  morning,  and  it  is  more  than  pro 
bable  he  shall  go  willingly  to  bed  at  eight  in  the  even 
ing;  and,  having  had  eight  hours  sleep,  he  will  rise 
more  willingly  at  four  the  following  morning.  But 
this  sum  of  "ninety-six  millions,  and  seventy-five 
thousand  livres  is  not  the  whole  of  what  may  be 
saved  by  my  economical  project.  You  may  observe 


ESSAVS.  167 

that  I  have  calculated  upon  only  one  balf  of  the 
year,  and  much  may  be  saved  in  the  other,  though 
the  days  are  shorter.  Besides,  the  immense  stock  of 
wax  and  tallow  left  unconsumed  during  the  summer, 
will  probably  make  candles  much  cheaper  for  the 
ensuing  winter,  and  continue  cheaper  as  long  as  the 
proposed  reformation  shall  be  supported. 

For  the  great  benefit  of  this  discovery,  thus  freely 
communicated  and  bestowed  by  me  on  the  public,  I 
demand  neither  place,  pension,  exclusive  privilege, 
or  any  other  reward  whatever.  I  expect  only  to 
have  die  honour  of  it.  And  yet  I  know  there  are 
little  envious  minds  who  will,  as  usual,  deny  me  this, 
and  say,  that  my  invention  was  known  to  the  an 
cients,  and  pernaps  they  may  bring  passages  out  of 
the  old  books  in  proof  of  it.  I  will  not  dispute  with 
these  people  that  the  ancients  knew  not  that  the  sun 
would  rise  at  certain  hours ;  they  possibly  had,  as 
we  have,  almanacks  that  predicted  it :  but  it  does 
not  follow  from  thence,  that  they  knew  he  gave  light 
as  soon  as  he  rose.  This  is  whart  I  claim  as  my  dis 
covery.  If  the  ancients  knew  it,  it  must  have  been 
long  since  forgotten,  for  it  certainly  was  unknown  to 
the  moderns,  at  least  to  the  Parisians;  which  to  prove, 
I  need  use  but  one  plain  simple  argument.  They  are 
AS  well  instructed,  judicious,  a*hd  prudent  a  people 
as  exist  any  where  in  the  world,  all  professing,  like 
myself,  to  be  lovers  of  economy;  and  from  the  many 
heavy  taxes  required  from  them  for  the  necessities  of 
the  state,  have  surely  reason  to  be  economical.  I 
say,  it  is  impossible  that  so  sensible  a  people  under 
sueh  circumstances,  should  have  lived  so  long  by  the  i 
smoky,  unwholesome,  and  enormously  expensive^ 
light  of  candles,  if  they  had  really  known  that  they 
might  nave  had  as  much  pure  light  of  the  sun  for 
nothing.  I  am,  &c. 


\N  ABONNE. 


168  ESSAYS 

SKETCH  OF  AN  ENGLISH  SCHOOL. 

For  the  Consideration  of  the  Trustees  of  the  Phila 
delphia  Jicademy. 

IT  is  expected  that  every  scholar  to  be  admitti  d 

into  this  school,  be  at  least  able  to  pronounce  ,ar»d 

divide  the    syllables    in    reading,    and    to   write    a 

sgible  hand.     None  to  be  received  that  are  imd.a 

years  of  age. 

FIRST,    OR    LOWEST   CLASS. 

Let  the  first  class  learn  the  Englisfo%rammar  rule^ 
and  at  the  same  time  let  particular  care  be  taken  to 
improve  them  in  orthography.  Perhaps  the  latter  is 
best  done  by  pairing  the  scholars;  two  of  those  near 
est  equal  in  their  spelling  to  be  put  together.  Let  these 
strive  for  victory ;  each  propounding  ten  words  every 
day  to  the  other  to  be  spelled.  He  that  spells  truly 
most  of  the  other's  words,  is  victor  for  that  day  ;  he 
that  is  victor  most  days  in  a  month,  to  obtain  a  prize, 
a  pretty  neat  book  of  some  kind,  useful  in  their  fu 
ture  studies.  This  method  fixes  the  attention  of 
children  extremely  tathe  orthography  of  wnrds,  and 
makes  them  good  spellers  very  early.  It  is  a  shame 
for  a  man  to  be  so  ignorant  of  this  little  art,  in  his  own 
.\angtiage,  as  to  be  perpetually  confounding  words  of 
like  sound  and  different  significations ;  the  conscious 
ness  of  which  defect  make  some  men,  otherwise  of 
good  learning  and  understanding,  averse  to  writing 
even  a  common  letter. 

Let  the  pieces  read  by  the  scholars  in  this  class  bo 
§hort ;  such  as  Croxal's  fables  and  little  stories.  In 
giving  the  lesson,  let  it  be  read  to  them ;  let  the 
meaning  of  the  difficult  words  in  it  be  explained  to 
them  :  and  let  them  con  it  over  by  themselves  before 
they  are  called  to  read  to  the  master  or  usher  ;  who  i  i 
to  take  particular  care  that  they  do  not  read  too  fast^ 
and  that  they  duly  observe  the  stops  and  pauses.  A 
vocabulary  of  the  most  usual  difficult  words  might  bfl 
formed  for  their  use,  with  explanations;  and  thej 


ESSAYS.  169 

might  daily  get  a  few  of  those  words  and  explanations 
by  heart,  which  would  a  little  exercise  their  memo 
ries  ;  or  a:  least  they  might  write  a  number  of  them 
in  a  small  book  for  the  purpose,  which  would  help  to 
*  fix  the  meaning  of  those  words  in  their  mitids,  and  at 
the  same  time  furnish  every  one  with  a  little  diction 
ary  for  his  future  use. 

THE   SECOND    CLASS, 

To  be  taught  reading  with  attention,  and  with  pro 
per  modulations  of  the  voice,  according  to  the  senti 
ment  and  the  subject. 

Some  short  pieces,  not  exceeding  the  length  of  a 
Spectator,  to  be  given  this  class  for  lessons  (and  some 
of  the  easier  Spectators  would  be  very  suitable  for 
the  purpose.)  These  lessons  might  be  given  every 
night  as  tasks ,  the  scholars  to  study  them  against 
the  morning.  Let  it  then  be  required  of  them  to  give 
an  account,  first  of  the  parts  of  speech,  and  construc 
tion  of  one  or  two  sentences.  This  will  oblige  them 
to  recur  frequently  to  their  grammar,  and  fix  its  prin 
cipal  rules  in  their  memory.  Next,  of  the  intention 
of  the  writer,  or  the  scope'of  the  piece,  the  meaning 
of  each  sentence,  and  of  every  uncommon  word.  • 
This  would  early  acquaint  them  with  the  meaning 
and  force  nJ  wqrds,  and  giving  them  that  most  neces 
sary  habit  of  reading  with  attention. 

The  master  then  to  read  the  piece  with  the  proper 
modulations  of  voice,  due  emphasis,  and  suitable  ac 
tion,  where  action  is  required  ;  and  put  the  youth  on 
imitating  his  manner. 

Where  the  author  has  used  an  expression  not  th» 
oest,  let  it  be  pointed  out :  and  let  his  beauties  ba 
particularly  remarked  to  the  youth. 

Let  the  lessons  for  reading  be  varied,  that  the  youth 
may  be  made  acquainted  with  good  styles  of  all  kinds 
in  prose  and  verse,  and  the  proper  manner  of  reading 
each  kind — sometimes  a  well-told  story,  a  piece  of  a 
sermon,  a  general's  speech  to  his  soldiers,  a  speech  in 
a  tragedy,  some  part  of  a  comedy,  an  ode,  a  satire,  a 
letter,  blank  verse.  Hudiorastic, "heroic,  &c.  Bullet 
such  lessons  be  chosen  for  reading,  as  contain  some 


170  ESSAYS. 

useful  instruction,  whereby  the  understanding  or  mo 
rals  of  the  youth  may  at  the  same  time  be  improved. 
It  is  required  that  they  should  first  study  and  im 
derstand  the  lessons,  before  they  are  put  upon  read 
ing  them  properly;  to  which  end  each  boy  should 
have  an  English  dictionary  to  help  him  over  difficul 
ties.  When  our  boys  read  English  to  us,  we  are  apt 
to  imagine  they  understand  what  they  read,  because 
we  do,  and  because  it  is  their  mother  tongue.  But 
they  often  read  as  Parrots  speak,  knowing  little  o 
nothing  of  the  meaning.  And  it  is  impossible  a  read 
er  should  give  the  due  modulation  to  his  voice,  and 
pronounce  properly,  unless  his  understanding  goes  be 
fore  his  tongue,  and  makes  him  master  of  the  senti 
ment.  Accustoming  boys  to  read  aloud  what  they  do 
not  first  understand,  is  the  cause  of  those  even  set  tones 
so  common  among  readers,  which,  when  they  have 
once  got  a  habit  of  using,  they  find  so  difficult  to  cor 
rect  ;  by  which  means,  among  fifty  readers  we  scarce 
ly  find  a  good  one.  For  want  of  good  reading,  pie 
ces  published  wUh  a  view  to  influence  the  minds  of 
men,  for  their  own  or  the  public  benefit,  lose  half 
their  force.  Were  there  but  one  good  reader  in  a 
neighbourhood,  a  public  orator  might  be  heard 
throughout  a  nation  with  the  same  advantages,  and 
have  the  same  effect  upon  his  audience  as  if  they 
stood  wilnin  the  reach  of  Us  voice. 


«  THE  THIRD   CLASS. 

To  be  taught  speaking  properly  and  gracefully ; 
which  is  near  a-kin  to  good  reading,  and  naturally 
follows  it  in  the  studies  of  youth,  fcet  the  scholars  of 
this  class  begin  with  learning  the  elements  of  rhetoric 
from  some  short  system,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  an 
account  of  the  most  useful  tropes  and  figures.  Lo* 
all  their  bad  habits  of  speaking,  nil  offences  against 
good  grammar,  ail  corrupt  or  foreign  accents,  and  all 
improper  phrases  be  pointed  out  to  them.  Short 
speeches  from  the  Roman  or  other  history,  or  from 
the  parliamentary  debates,  might  be  got  by  heart, 
and  delivered  with  the  proper  action,  &c. — Speeches 
and  scenes  in  our  best  tiagedies  and  comedies  (avoid- 


ESSAYS.  171 

ing  every  thing  that  could  injure  the  morals  of  youth) 
might  likewise  be  got  by  rote,  and  the  boys  exercised 
in  delivering  or  acting  them  ;  great  care  being  taken 
to  form  their  manner  after  the  truest  models. 

For  their  farther  improvement,  and  a  little  to  vary 
their  studies,  let  them  now  begin  to  read  history, 
after  having  got  by  heart  a  short  table  of  the  principal 
epochs  in  chronology.  They  may  begin  with  Rollin's 
ncient  and  Roman  histories,  and  proceed  at  proper 
ours,  as  they  go  though  the  subsequent  classes,  with 
he  best  histories  of  our  own  nation  and  colonies.  Let 
emulation  be  excited  among  the  boys,  by  giving,  j 
weekly,  little  prizes,  or  other  small  encouragements  \ 
to  those  who  are  able  to  give  the  best  account  of  what 
they  have  read,  as  to  times,  places,  names  of  persons, 
&c.  This  will  make  them  read  with  attention,  and 
imprint  the  history  well  in  their  memories.  In  re 
marking  on  the  history,  the  master  will  have  fine  op- 
portunites  of  instilling  instruction  of  various  kinds, 
and  improving  the  morals,  as  well  as  the  understand 
ings,  of  youth. 

The  natural  and  mechanic  history,  contained  in 
the  Spectacle  de  la  Nature,  might  also  be  begun  in 
this  class,  and  continued  through  the  subsequent 
classes,  i/y  other  books  of  the  same  kind ;  for,  next  to 
the  knowledge  of  duty,  this  kind  of  knowledge  is 
certainly  the  most  useful,  as  well  as  the  most  enter 
taining.  The  merchant  may  thereby  be  enabled  bet 
ter  to  understand  many  commodities  in  trade ;  the 
handicraftsman  to  improve  his  business  by  new  in 
struments,  mixtures,  and  materials,  and  frequently 
hints  are  given  for  new  methods  of  improving  land 
hat  may  be  set  on  foot  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  a 
ountry. 

4 

THE   FOURTH   CLASS. 

To  be  taught  composition.  Writing  one's  own 
language  well,  is  the  next  necessary  accomplishment 
after  good  speaking.  It  is  the  writing  master's  busi 
ness  to  take  care  that  the  boys  make  fair  characters, 
and  place  them  straight  and  even  in  the  lines  •  but  to 
form  their  style,  and  even  to  take  care  that  the  stopi 
"  8 


172  ESSAYS. 

and  capitals  are  properly  disposed,  is  the  part  of  th» 
English  master.  The  boys  should  be  put  on  writing 
letters  to  each  other  on  any  common  occurrences,  and 
on  various  subjects,  imaginary  business,  &c.  con 
taining  little  stories,  accounts  of  their  late  reading, 
v/hat  parts  of  authors  please  them,  and  why  ;  letters 
of  congratulation,  of  compliment,  of  request,  of 
thanks,  of  recommendationv  of  admonition,  of  conso 
lation,  of  expostulation,  excuse,  &c.  In  these  they 
^iould  be  taught  to  express  themselv-es  clearly,  con 
cisely,  and  naturally,  without  affected  words  or  high 
lown  phrases.  All  their  letters  to  pass  through  theif 
master's  hand,  who  is  to  point  out  the  faults,  advise 
3he  corrections,  and  commend  what  he  finds  right 
Some  of  the  best  letters  published  in  their  own  Ian 
wage,  as  Sir  William  Temple's  those  of  Pope  and 
•is  friends,  and  some  others,  might  be  set  before  the 
youth  as  models,  their  beauties  pointed  out  and  ex 
plained  by  the  master,  the  letters  themselves  trans 
cribed  by  the  scholar. 

Dr.  Johnson's  Kthices  JZlcmenta,  or  Firs!  Principles 
e»f  Morality,  may  now  be  read  by  the  scholars,  and 
explained  by  the  master,  to  lay  a  solid  foundation  of 
•rirtue  and  piety  in  their  minds.  And  as  this  clasa 
continues  the  reading  of  history,  let  them  now,  at 
tproper  hours,  receive  some  farther  instruction  is 
chronology  and  in  that  part  of  geography  (from  th« 
mathematical  master)  which  is  necessary  to  under 
stand  the  maps  and  globes.  They  should  also  be  ac 
quainted  with  the  modern  names  of  the  places  they 
find  mentioned  in  ancient  writers.  The  exercises  of 
good  reading,  and  proper  speaking,  still  continued 
•t  suitable  times. 

FIFTH    CLASS. 

To  improve  the  youth  in  composition,  they  may 
now,  besides  continuing  to  write  letters,  begin  to 
write  little  essays  in  prose,  and  sometimes  in  verse, 
not  to  make  them  poets,  but  for  this  reason,  that  no  ^ 
thing  acquaints  a  lad  so  speedily  with  a  variety  of 
expression,  as  the  necessity  of  finding  such  words 
and  phrases,  as  will  suit  the  measure,  sound,  and 


ESSAYS.  173 

rhyme  of  verse,  and  at  the  same  time  we41  express 
the  sentiment.  These  essays  should  all  pass  under 
the  master's  eye,  who  will  point  out  their  faults,  and 
put  the  writer  on  correcting  them.  Where  the  judg 
ment  is  not  ripe  enough  for  forming  new  essays,  let 
the  sentiments  of  a  Spectator  he  given,  and  required 
to  be  clothed  in  the  scholars  own  words ;  or  the  cir 
umstances  oi  some  good  story ;  the  scholar  to  fin 
expression.  Let  them  be  put  sometimes  on  abridg 


dil 
An 

pies  of  Human  Knowledge,  containing  a  logic,  or 
art  of  reasoning,  &c.  be  read  by  the  youth,  and  the 
difficulties  that  may  occur  to  them  be  explained  by 
the  master.  The  reading  of  history,  and  the  exer 
cises  of  good  reading  and  just  speaking,  still  continued. 

SIXTH    CLASS. 

In  this  class,  besides  continuing  the  studies  of  the 
preceding  in  history,  rhetoric,  logic,  moral  and  na 
tural  philosophy,  the  best  English  authors  may  be 
read  and  explained  ;  ?*•  Tillotson,  Milton,  Locke, 
Addisori,  Pope,  Swift,  the  higher  papers  in  the  Spec 
tator  and  Guardian,  the  best  translations  of  Homer, 
Virgil  and  Horace,  of  Telempchus,  Travels  of  Cy 
rus,  &c. 

Once  a-year,  let  there  be  public  exercises  in  the 
hall ;  the  trustees  and  citizens  present.  Then  let 
fine  gilt  books  be  given  as  prizes  to  such  boys  as  dis* 
tinguish  themselves,  and  excel  the  others  in  any 
branch  of  learning,  making  three  degrees  of  com- 
arison ;  giving  the  best  prize  to  him  that  perform 
est,  a  less  valuable  one  to  him  that  conies  up  nex, 
o  the  best;  and  another  to  the  third.  Commenda* 
tions,  encouragement,  and  advice  to  the  rest,  keep 
ing  up  their  hopes,  that,  by  industry,  they  may  ex- 
eel  another  time.  The  names  of  those  that  obtain 
the  prize,  to  be  yearly  printed  in  a  list. 

Trie  hours  of  each  day  are  to  be  divided  and  dis 
posed  in  such  a  manner  as  that  some  classes  may  bf 
with  the  writing  master,  improving  their  hands. 


174  ESSAYS 

others  with  the  mathematical  master,  learning  arith 
metic,  accounts,  geography,  use  of  the  globes,  draw 
ing,  mechanics,  &,c. ;  while  the  rest  are  in  the  En 
glish  school,  under  the  English  master's  care. 

Thus  instructed,  youth  will  come  out  of  this 
school  fitted  for  learning  any  business,  calling,  01 
profession,  except  in  such  wherein  languages  are  re 
quired  ;  and  though  unacquainted  with  any  ancient 
or  foreign  tongue,  they  will  be  masters  of  their  own, 
which  is  of  more  immediate  and  general  use ;  and 
withal,  will  have  attained  many  other  valuable  ac 
complishments ;  the  time  usually  spent  in  acquiring 
those  languages  often  without  success,  being  here 
employed  in  laying  such  a  foundation  of  knowledge 
and  ability,  as,  properly  improved,  may  qualify  them 
to  pass  through  and  execute  the  several  offices  of  civil 
life,  with  advantage  and  reputation  to  themselves  and 
country. 


ON  MODERN  INNOVATIONS  IN  THE  ENGLISH 
LANGUAGE  AND  IN  PRINTING. 

TO  NOAH  WEBSTER,  JUN.  ESQ.  AT  HARTFORD. 

Philadelphia^  Dec.  26,  1789. 

DEAR  6IR» 

I  RECEIVED  some  time  since  your  Dissertation  on 
the  English  Language.  It  is  an  excellent  work, 
and  will  be  greatly  useful  in  turning  the  thoughts  of 
our  countrymen  to  correct  writing.  Please  to  accept 
my  thanks  for  it,  as  well  as  for  the  great  honour  you 
have  done  me  in  its  dedication.  I  ought  to  have 
made  this  acknowledgement  sooner,  but  much  in 
disposition  prevented  me. 

I  cannot  but  applaud  your  zeal  for  preserving  the 
purity  of  our  language  both  in  its  expression  and 
pronunciation,  and  in  correcting  the  popular  errors 
several  of  our  states  are  continually  falling  into  with 
-espect  to  both.  Give  me  leave  to  mention  some  of 
them,  though  possibly  they  may  have  already  occur 


ESSAYS.  175 

red  to  you,  I  wish,  however,  flat  in  some  future  pub 
lication  of  yours,  you  would  set  a  discount* ww^'g 
mark  upon  them.  The  first  I  remember  i&  ttie  wuid 
improved.  When  I  left  New  England  in  the  yea* 
1723,  this  word  had  never  been  used  among  us,  as  far 
as  I  know,  but  in  the  sense  of  ameliorated,  or  made  bet 
ter,  except  once  in  a  very  old  book  of  Dr.  Mather's, 
entitled,  "  Remarkable  Providences."  As  that  man 
wrote  a  very  obscure  hand,  I  remember  that  when  I 
lead  that  word  in  his  book,  used  instead  of  the  wor 
employed,  [  conjectured  that  it  was  an  error  of  th 
printer,  who  had  mistaken  a  short  I  in  the  writing  fo 
an  r,  and  a  y  with  too  short  a  tail  for  a  v  whereby 
employed  was  converted  into  improved :  but  when  I 
returned  to  Boston  in  1733,  I  found  this  change  had 
obtained  favour,  and  was  then  become  common ;  for 
I  met  with  it  often  in  perusing  the  newspapers,  where 
it  frequently  made  an  appearance  rather  ridiculous 
Such,  for  instance,  as  the  advertisement  of  a  country 
house,  which  had  become  many  years  improved  as  a 
tavern  ;  and  in  the  character  of  a  deceased  country 
gentlem  in,  that  he  had  been  for  more  than  thirty  years, 
improved  as  a  justice  of  peace.  This  use  of  the  word 
improve  is  peculiar  to  New  England,  and  not  to  be 
met  with  among  any  other  speakers  of  English, 
either  on  this  or  the  other  side  of  the  water. 

During  my  late  absence  in  France,  I  find  that  se 
veral  other  new  words  have  been  introduced  into 
our  parliamentary  language.  For  example,  I  find 
a  verb  formed  from  the  substantive  notice.  I  should 
not  have  noticed  this,  were  it  not  that  the  gentleman, 
SfC.  Also  another  verb  from  the  substantive  advo 
cate  :  The  gentleman  who  advocates,  or  who  has  ad 
vocated  that  motion,  «$*c.  Another  from  the  substan 
tive  progress,  the  most  autfward  and  abominable  of 
the  three  :  The  committee  having  progressed,  resolved 
to  adjourn.  The  word  opposed,  though  not  a  new 
word,  1  find  used  in  a  new  manner,  as,  The  gentle 
men  who  are  opposed  to  this  measure,  to  which  I  have 
also  myself  always  been  opposed.  If  you  should  hap 
pen  to  be  of  my  opinion,  with  respect  to  those  inno 
vations,  you  will  use  your  authority  in  reprobating 
them 


i/«  ESSAYS. 

The  Latin  language,  long  the  vehicle  used  in  dis 
tributing  knowledge  among  the  different  nations  of 
Europe,  is  daily  more  and  more  neglected ;  and  one 
of  the  modern  tongues,  viz.  French  seems,  in  point 
of  universality,  to  have  supplied  its  place.  It  is 
spoken  in  all  the  courts  of  Europe  ;  and  most  of  the 
literati,  those  even  who  do  not  speak  it,  have  acquir 
ed  a  knowledge  of  it,  to  enable  them  easily  to  read 
the  books  that  are  written  in  it.  This  gives^a  consi 
^erable  advantage  to  that  nation.  It  enables  its  au 
thers  to  inculcate  and  spread  through  other  nations, 
such  sentiments  and  opinions,  on  important  points, 
as  are  most  conducive  to  its  interests,  or  which  may 
contribute  to  its  reputation,  by  promoting  the  com 
mon  interests  of  mankind.  It  is,  perhaps,  owing  to 
its  being  written  in  French,  tiiat  Voltaire's  Treatise 
on  Toleration  has  had  so  sudden  and  so  great  an 
effect  on  the  bigotry  of  Europe,  as  almost  entirely  to 
disarm  it.  The  general  use  of  the  French  language 
has  likewise  a  very  advantageous  effect  on  the  profits 
of  the  bookselling  branch  of  commerce  ;  it  being  well 
known,  that  the  more  copies  can  be  sold  that  ara 
struck  off  from  one  composition  of  types,  the  profit! 
increase  in  a  much  greater  proportion  than  they  do  in 
making  a  greater  number  of  pieces  in  any  other  kind 
of  manufacture.  And  at  present  there  is  no  capital 
town  in  Europe  without  a  French  bookseller's  shop 
corresponding  with  Paris.  Our  English  bids  fair  to 
obtain  the  second  place.  The  great  body  of  excel 
lent  printed  sermons  in  our  language,  and  the  freedom 
of  our  writing  on  political  subjects,  have  induced  a 
great  number  of  divines,  of  different  sects  and  na 
tions,  as  well  as  gentlemen  concerned  in  public  af 
fairs,  to  study  it  so  far  at  least  as  to  read  it.  And  2 
we  were  to  endeavour  the  facilitating  its  progress, 
the  study  of  our  tongue  might  become  much  more 
general.  Those  who  have  employed  some  part  of 
their  time  in  learning  a  new  language,  must  have 
frequently  observed,  that  while  their  acquaintance 
with  it  was  imperfect,  difficulties,  small  in  them 
selves,  have  operated  as  great  ones  in  obstructing 
their  progress.  A  book,  for  example,  ill  printed, 
or  a  pronunciation  in  speaking  not  \\-e\l  arucu- 


ESSAYS.  m 

lated,  would  render  a  sentence  unintelligible,  which 
from  a  clear  prinv  or  a  distinct  speaker  would  have 
been  immediate!/  comprehended.  If,  therefore,  wa 
would  have  the  benefit  of  seeing  our  language  more 
generally  known  among  mankind,  we  should  endea 
vour  to  remove  all  the  diihculties,  however  small, 
that  discourage  the  learning  of  it.  But  I  am  sorry 
10  observe  that  of  late  years,  those  difficulties,  in- 
$tead  of  being  diminished,  have  been  augmented. 

In  examining  the  English  books  that  were  printed 
between  the  Restoration  and  the  accession  of  George 
the  Second,  we  may  observe  that,  all  substantives 
were  begun  with  a  capital,  in  which  we  imitated  oui 
mother-tongue,  the  German.  This  was  more  parti 
cularly  useful  to  those  who  were  not  well  acquainted 
with  the  English,  there  being  such  a  prodigious  num 
ber  of  our  words  that  are.  botli  verbs  and  substan 
tives,  and  spelt  in  the  same  manner,  though  often  ac 
cented  differently  in  pionounciation.  This  method 
has,  by  the  fancy  of  printers  of  late  years,  been  en 
tirely  laid  aside  ;  from  an  idea,  that  suppressing  the 
capitals  shows  the  character  to  greater  advantage  j 
those  letters,  prominent  above  the  line,  disturbing  its 
even,  regular  appearance.  The  effect  cf  this  change 
.s  so  considerable,  that  a  learned  man  of  France,  who 
used  to  read  cur  books,  though  not  perfectly  ac 
quainted  with  our  language,  in  conversation  with  me 
on  the  subject  of  our  authors,  attributed  the  greatei 
obscurity  he  found  in  our  modern  books,  compared 
with  those  of  the  period  above-mentioned,  to  a 
change  of  style  for  the  worse  in  our  writers :  ol 
which  mistake  I  convinced  him,  by  marking  for  him 
each  substantive  with  a  capital,  in  a  paragraph 
which  he  then  easily  understood,  though  before  h* 
eould  not  comprehend  it.  This  shows  the  inconve 
nience  of  that  pretended  improvement. 

From  the  same  fondness  for  an  uniform  and  ever/ 
appearance  of  characters  in  a  line,  the  printers  have 
of  late  banished  also  the  Italic  types,  in  which  words 
of  importance  to  be  attended  to  in  the  sense  of  the 
sentence,  and  words  on  which  an  emphasis  should  be 
put  in  reading,  used  to  be"  printed.  And  lately  ano 
ther  fancy  has  induced  other  printers  to  use  the  round 


173  ESSAYS. 

*  instead  of  the  long  one,  which  formerly  served  wefi 
to  distinguish  a  word  readily  by  its  varied  appear 
ance.  Certainly  the  omitting  the  prominent  letter 
makes  a  line  appear  more  even,  but  renders  it  less 
immediately  legible;  as  the  paring  off  ail  men's  no 
ses  might  smooth  their  features,  but  would  render 
their  physiognomies  less  distinguishable.  Add  to  all 
these  improvements  backwards,  another  nxxlern  fan 
cy  that  grey  printing  is  more  beautiful  than  black. 
Hence  the  English  new  books  are  printed  in  so  dim 
a  character  as  to  be  read  with  difficulty  by  old  eyes 
unless  in  a  very  strong  light,  and  with  good  glasses. 
Whoever  compares  a  volume  of  the  Gentleman's 
Magazine  printed  between  the  years  1731  and  1740, 
with  one  of  those  printed  in  the  last  ten  years,  will  bs 
convinced  of  the  much  greater  degree  of  perspicuity 
given  by  black  than  by  the  grey.  Lord  Chesterfield 
pleasantly  remarked  this  difference  to  Faulkener,  thb 
printer  of  the  Dublin  Journal,  who  was  vainly  mak 
ing  encomiums  on  his  own  paper  as  the  most  com- 
pJeie  of  any  in  the  world.  **  But,  Mr.  Faulkener,'* 
says  my  Lord,  "  don't  you  think  it  might  be  still  far 
ther  improved,  by  using  paper  and  ink  not  quite  so 
near  of  a  colour?" — For  all  these  reasons  1  cannot 
but  wish  our  American  printers  would,  in  their  edi 
tions,  avoid  these  tancied  improvements,  and  thereby 
render  thoir  works  more  agreeable  to  foreigners  in 
Europe,  to  the  great  advantage  of  our  bookselling 
commerce. 

Farther,  to  be  more  sensible  of  the  advantage  ol 
clear  and  distinct  printing,  let  us  consider  the  assist 
ance  it  affords  in  reading  well  aloud  to  an  auditory. 
Jn  so  doing  che  eye  generally  slkles  forward  three  01 
four  words  before  the  voice.  If  the  sight  clearly  dis 
tinguishes  what  the  coming  words  are,  it  gives  time 
to  order  the  modulation  of  the  voice  to  express  them 
properly.  But  if  they  are  obscurely  printed,  or  dis 
guised  by  omiting  the  capitals  or  long/'s,  or  other 
wise,  the  reader  is  apt  to  modulate  wrong ;  and,  find 
ing  he  lias  done  so,  ho  is  obliged  to  go  back  and  be-  * 
gin  the  sentence  again ;  which  lessens  the  pleasure 
of  the  Hearers.  This  leads  me  to  mention  an  old 


ESSAYS.  m 

error  bi  our  mode  of  printing.  We~  are  sensible, 
that  when  a  question  is  met  with  in  the  reading 
there  is  a  proper  variation  to  be  used  in  the  rnan« 
agement  of  the  voice :  we  have,  therefore,  a  pomt 
called  an  interrogation  affixed  to  the  question,  to 
distinguish  it.  But  this  is  absurdly  placed  at  its 
end,  so  that  the  reader  does  not  discover  it  till  ho 
finds  that  he  was  wrongly  modulating  his  voice, 
and  is  therefore  obliged  to  begin  again  the  sen 
tence.  To  prevent  this,  the  Spanisn  printers,  more 
sensibly  place  an  interrogation  at  the  beginning  as 
well  as  at  the  end  of  the  question.  We  have  ano. 
ther  error  of  the  same  kind  in  printing  plays,  where 
something  often  occurs  that  is  marked  as  spoken 
aside.  But  the  word  aside  is  pldced  at  the  end  of  the 
speech,  when  it  ought  to  precede  it,  as  a  direction  to 
tne  reader,  that  he  may  govern  his  voice  accord 
ingly.  The  practise  of  our  ladies,  in  meeting  five 
or  six  together,  to  form  little  busy  parties,  where 
each  is  employed  in  some  useful  work,  while  one 
reads  to  them,  is  so  commendable  in  itself,  that  it 
deserves  the  attention  of  authors  and  printers  to 
make  it  as  pleasing  as  possible,  both  to  the  reader 
and  hearers. 

My  best  wishes  attend  you,  being  with '  sincere 
est«em, 

Sir,  , 

Your  most,  obedient  and 

Very  humble  servant, 

B  FRANKLIN 


,„/>  ESSAYS. 

Aft       MHItrNT    OF    THE     HIGHEST    COURT   OF  JODlCATIfRt 
IN    PENNSYLVANIA,  Y1Z. 

THE  COURT  OF  THE  PRESS 
Power  of  this  court. 

It  may  receive  and  promulgate  accusations  of  al 
kinds,  against  all  persons  and  characters  among  tha 
citizens  of  the  state,  and  against  all  inferior  courts  9 
and  may  judge,  sentence  and  condemn  to  infamy,  not 
only  private  individuals,  but  public  bodies,  &c.  with 
or  without  inquiry  or  hearing,  at  the  court's  discre 
tion. 

Whose  favour,  or  for  whose  emolument  this  court  is 
established. 

In  favour  of  about  one  citizen  in  five  hundred, 
who,  by  education,  or  practice  in  scribbling,  has  ac 
quired  a  tolerable  style  as  to  grammar  and  construc 
tion,  so  as  to  bear  printing ;  or  who  is  possessed  of  a 
press  and  a  few  types.  This  five  hundredth  part  of 
the  citizens  have  the  liberty  of  accusing  and  abus 
ing  the  other  four  hundred  and  ninety-nine  parts  at 
their  pleasure ;  or  they  may  hire  out  their  pens  and 
press  to  others,  for  that  purpose. 

Practice  of  this  Court. 

It  is  not  governed  by  any  oi  the  rules  of  the  com 
mon  courts  of  law.  The  accused  is  allowed  no  grand 
jury  to  judge  of  the  truth  of  the  accusation  before  it 
is  publicly  made ;  nor  is  the  na:ji£  of  the  accuser 
made  known  to  him,  nor  has  he  an  opportunity  oi 
-<«*wfronting  the  witnesses  against  him,  for  they  are 
•topi  in  the  dark,  as  in  the  Spanish  court  of  inquisi 
tion.  Nor  is  there  any  petty  jury  of  his  peers  sworn 
to  try  the  truth  of  the  charges.  The  proceedings  are 
also  sometimes  so  rapid,  that  an  honest  good  citizen 
may  find  himself  suddenly  and  unexnectedly  accused, 


ESSAYS  181 

and  in  the  same  moment  judged  and  condemned, 
and  sentence  pronounced  against  him  that  i>c  is  a 
rogue  and  a  villian.  Yet  if  an  officer  of  this  court 
receives  the  slightest  check  for  misconduct  in  this  bis 
office,  he  claims  immediately  the  rights  of  a  free  citi 
een  by  the  constitution,  and  demands  to  know  his 
accuser,  to  confront  the  witnesses,  and  have  a  fair 
Urial  by  the  jury  of  his  peers. 

The  foundation  of  its  authority. 

It  is  said  to  be  founded  on  an  article  in  the  stat  * 
constitution,  which  establishes  the  liberty  of  the 
press — a  liberty  which  every  Pennsylvanian  would 
fight  and  die  for,  though  f2\v  of  us,  I  believe,  have 
distinct  ideas  of  its  nature  and  extent.  It  seems, 
indeed,  somewhat  like  the  liberty  of  the  press,  that 
felons  have,  by  the  common  law  of  England  before 
conviction  ;  that  is,  to  be  either  pressed  to  death  or 
hanged.  If  by  the  liberty  of  the  press,  we  understood 
merely  the  liberty  of  discussing  the  propriety  of  pub 
lic  measures  and  political  opinions,  let  us  have  as 
much  of  it  as  you  please  ;  but  if  it  means  the  liberty 
of  affronting,  calumniating,  and  defaming  one  an 
other,  I,  for  my  part,  own  myself  willing  to  part  with 
my  share  of  it,  whenever  our  legislators  shall  please 
to  alter  the  law  ;  and  shall  cheerfully  consent  to  ex- 
thange  my  liberty  of  abusing  others,  for  the  privi 
lege  of  not  being  abused  myself! 

By  whom  this  court  is  commissioned  or 
constituted. 

It  is  not  by  any  commission  from  the  supreme  ex 
ecutive  council,  who  might  previously  judge  of  the 
abilities,  integrity,  knowledge,  &c.  of  the  persons  to 
be  appointed  to  this  great  trust,  of  deciding  upon  the 
characters  and  good  fame  of  the  citizens:  for  this 
court  is  above  that  council,  and  may  accuse,  judge, 
and  condemn  it  at  pleasure.  Nor  is  it  hereditary,  as 
is  the  court  of  dernier  resort  in  the  peerage  of  En-g- 
Und.  But  any  man  who  can  procure  pen,  ink,  and 


182  ESSAYS. 

psper,  with  a  press,  a  few  types,  and  a  huge  pair  o« 
blacking  balls,  may  coinmissionate  himself,  and  his 
court  is  immediately  established  in  the  plenary  pos 
session  and  exercise  of  its  rights ;  for  if  you  make 
the  least  complaint  of  the  judge's  conduct,  he  daubs 
his  blacking  balls  in  your  face  wherever  he  meets 
you:  and  besides  tearing  your  private  character  to 
splinters,  marks  you  out  for  the  odium  of  the  public* 
as  an  enemy  to  the  liberty  of  the  press. 

Of  the  natural  support  of  this  court. 

Its  support  is  founded  in  the  depravity  of  such 
minds  as  have  not  been  mended  by  religion,  nor  'mi- 
proved  by  good  education. 

There  is  a  lust  in  man  no  charm  can  tame, 
Of  loudly  publishing  his  neighbour's  shame. 

Hence, 

On  eagle's  wings  immortal  scandals  fly, 
While  virtuous  actions  a^fi  but  born  and  (He. 

Drydtn. 

Whoever  feels  pain  on  hearing  a  good  character  of 
his  neighbour,  will  feel  a  pleasure  in  the  reverse. — 
t  And  of  those  who,  despairing  to  rise  in  distinction  by 
their  virtues,  are  happy  if  others  can  be  depressed  to 
ajevel  with  themselves,  there  are  a  number  sufficient 
in  every  great  town  to  maintain  one  of  these  courti 
by  subscription.  A  shrewd  observer  once  said,  that 
in  walking  the  streets  of  a  slippery  morning,  one 
might  see  where  the  good  natured  people  lived,  by 
the  ashes  thrown  on  the  ice  before  the  doors :  proba 
bly  he  would  have  formed  a  different  conjecture  of 
ihe  temper  of  those  of  whom  he  might  find  engaged 
01  such  subscriptions. 


ESSAYS.  183 

Of  the  checks  proper  to  be  established  against    thu 
abuses  of  power  in  those  courts. 

Hitherto  there  are  none.  But  since  so  much  has 
been  written  and  published  on  the  federal  constitu 
tion  ;  and  the  necessity  of  checks  in  all  parts  of  good 
government,  has  been  so  clearly  and  learnedly  ex 
plained,  1  find  myself  so  far  enlightened  as  to  sus 
pect  some  check  may  be  proper  in  this  part  also  ;  but 
I  have  been  at  a  loss  to  imagine  any  that  may  net  bo 
construed  an  infringement  of  the  sacred  liberty  of  the 
press.  At  length,  however,  I  think  I  have  found  one, 
that  instead  of  diminishing  general  liberty,  shall  aug 
ment  it ;  which  is,  by  restoring  to  the  people  a  spe 
cies  of  liberty,  of  which  they  have  been  deprived 
by  our  laws — I  mean  the  liberty  of  the  cudgel !  In  the 
rude  state  of  society,  prior  to  the  existence  of  laws,  if 
one  man  gave  another  ill  language,  the  affronted  per 
son  might  return  it  by  a  box  on  the  ear;  and,  if  re 
peated,  by  a  good  drubbing  ;  and  this  without  offend- 
ing  against  any  law :  but  now  the  right  of  making 
such  returns  is  denied,  and  they  are  punished  as 
breaches  of  the  peace,  while  the  right  of  abusing 
seems  to  remain  in  full  force  ;  the  laws  made  against 
it  being  rendered  ineffectual  by  the  liberty  of  the 
press. 

My  proposal  then  is,  to  leave  the  liberty  of  the 
press  untouched,  to  be  exercised  in  its  full  extent, 
force,  and  vigour,  but  to  permit  the  liberty  of  the 
cudgel  to  go  with  it,  parri  passu.  Thus,  my  fellow- 
citizens,  if  an  impudent  writer  attacks  your  repu 
tation — dearer  perhaps  to  you  than  your  life,  and 
outs  his  name  to  the  charge,  you  may  go  to  him  as 
openly,  and  break  his  head.  If  he  conceals  himsell 
behind  the  printer,  and  you  can  nevertheless  discovei 
who  he  is,  you  may,  in  IIKB  manner,  waylay  him  in 
the  night,  attack  him  behind,  and  give  him  a  good 
drubbing.  If  you  adversary  hires  better  writers  than 
himself  to  abuse  you  more  effectually,  you  may  hire 
as  many  porters,  stronger  than  yourself,  to  assist  you 
in  giving  him  a  more  effectual  drubbing,  Thus  far 
goes  my  project  as  to  private  resentment  and  retri 
bution.  But  if  the  public  should  ever  ha"j*cn  to  be 


184  ESSAYS^ 

affronted,  as  it  ought  to  be,  with  the  conduct  of  sucft 
writers,  I  would  not  advise  proceeding  immediately 
to  these  extremities,  but  that  we  should  in  mode 
ration  content  ourselves  with  tarring  and  feathering, 
and  tossing  in  a  blanket. 

If,  however,  it  should  be  thought,  that  this  propo 
sal  of  mine  may  disturb  the  public  peace,  I  would 
then  humbly  recommend  to  our  legislators  to  take 
up  the  consideration  of  both  liberties,  that  of  tha 
press,  and  that  of  the  cudgel ;  and  by  an  explicit  law 
mark  their  extent  and  limits :  and  at  the  same  tim 
that  they  secure  the  person  of  a  citizen  from  assaults, 
they  would  likewise  provide  for  the  security  of  hii 
reputation. 


PAPER 


ions  c»   *. 


SOME  wit  of  old — such  wits  of  old  there  wen 
Whose  hints  show'd  meaning,  whose  allusions- 
By  one  brave  stroke  to  mark  all  human  kind 
Call'd  clear  blank  paper  ev'ry  infant  mind ; 
When  still,  as  opening  sense  her  dictates  wrote, 
Fair  virtue  put  a  seal,  or  vice  a  blot. 

The  thought  was  happy,  pertinent  and  true  j 
Methinks  a  genius  might  the  plan  pursue. 
I  (can  you  pardon  my  presumption),  I — 
No  wit,  no  genius,  yet  for  once  will  try. 

Various  the  papers  various  wants  produce, 
The  wants  of  fashion,  elegance,  and  use. 
Men  are  as  various ;  and  if  right  I  scan? 
Each  sort  of  paper  represents  some  ma?i. 

Pray  note  the  fop — half  powder  and  half  Iac*j- 
Nice  as  a  band-box  were  his  dwelling-place: 
He's  the  gilt-paper,  which  apart  you  store, 
And  lock  from  vulgar  hands  in  the  'scrutoire. 


ESSAYS.  t86 

Mechanics,  servants,  farmers,  and  so  forth, 
Are  copy-paper,  of  inferior  worth  ; 
Less  priz'd,  more  useful,  for  your  desk  decreed, 
Free  to  all  pens,  and  prompt  at  ev'ry  need. 

The  wretch  whom  av'rice  bids  to  pinch  and  spare, 
Starve,  cheat,  and  pilfer,  to  enrich  an  heir, 
Is  coarse  brown-paper  ,•  such  as  pedlers  choose 
To  wrap  up  wares,  which  better  men  will  use. 

Take  next  the  miser's  contrast,  who  destroy? 
Health,  fame,  and  fortune,  in  a  round  of  joys. 
Will  any  paper  match  him  ?  Yes,  throughout, 
He's  a  true  sinking-paper,  past  all  doubt. 

The  retail  politician's  anxious  thought 
Deems  this  side  always  right,  and  that  stark  nought , 
He  foams  with  censure ;  with  applause  he  raves — 
A  dupe  to  rumours,  and  a  tool  of  knaves; 
He'll  want  no  type  his  weakness  to  proclaim, 
While  such  a  thing  as  fools-cap  has  a  name. 

The  hasty  gentleman,  whose  blood  runs  high, 
Who  picks  a  quarrel,  if  you  step  awry, 
Who  can't  a  jest,  or  hint,  or  look  endure  . 
What's  he  ?  What  ?  Touch-paper  to  be  sure. 

What  are  pur  poets,  take  them  as  they  fall 
Good,  bad,  rich,  poor,  much  read,  not  read  at  all  ? 
Them  and  their  works  in  the  same  class  you'll  find  \ 
They  are  the  mere  waste-paper  of  mankind. 

Observe  the  maiden,  innocently  sweet, 
She's  fair  white-paper,  an  unsullied  sheet ; 
On  which  the  happy  man,  whom  fate  ordains, 
May  write  his  name,  and  take  her  for  his  pains. 

One  instance  more,  and  only  one  I'll  bring ; 
•Tis  the  great  man  who  scorns  a  little  thing, 
Whose  thoughts,  whose  deeds,  whose  maxims  are 

his  own, 

Form'd  on  the  feelings  of  his  heart  alone : 
True  genuine  royal-paper  is  his  breast  : 
Of  all  lie- kinds  most  precious,  purest,  boat 


186  ESSAYS. 

ON  THE  ART  OF  SWIMMING. 

IS    ANSWER   TO   SOME   INQUIRIES   OF   M.    DUBOURG    * 
ON    THE   SUBJECT. 

f  AM  apprehensive  that  I  shall  not  be  able  to  find 
leisure  for  making  all  the  disquisitions  and  experi 
ments,  which  would  be  desirable  on  this  subject.  I 
mist,  therefore,  content  myself  with  a  few  remarks 

The  specific  gravity  of  some  human  bodies,  in 
comparison  to  that  of  water,  has  been  examined  by 
M.  Robinson,  in  our  Philosophical  Transactions, 
volume  50,  page  30,  for  the  year  1757.  He  asserts, 
that  fat  persons  with  small  bones  float  most  easily 
uuon  water. 

me  diving  bell  is  accurately  described  in  oui 
Transactions. 

When  I  was  a  boy,  I  made  two  oval  pallets,  each 
about  ten  inches  long)  and  six  broad,  with  a  hole 
for  the  thumb,  in  order  to  retain  it  fast  in  the  palm 
of  my  hand.  They  much  resemble  a  painter's  pal 
lets.  In  swimming,  I  pushed  the  edges  of  these  for 
ward,  and  1  struck  the  water  with  their  flat  surfaces 
as  I  drew  them  back  :  I  remember  I  swam  faster  by 
means  of  these  pallets,  but  they  fatigued  my  wrists. 
I  also  fitted  to  the  soles  of  my  feet  a  kind  of  sandals; 
but  I  was  not  satisfied  with  them,  because  I  observed 
that  the  stroke  is  partly  given  by  the  inside  of  the 
feet  and  the  ancles,  and  not  entirely  with  the  soles  of 
the  feet. 

1  We  have  here  waistcoats  for  swimming,  which  are 
made  of  double  sail-cloth,  with  small  pieces  of  cork 
quilted  in  between  them. 

I  knov*  nothing  -of  the  scaphandre  of  M.  de  la 
Jhapelle. 

I  know  by  experience,  that  it  is  a  great  com  fort  to  a 
swimmer,  who  has  a  considerable  distance  to  go,  **» 
turn  himself  sometimes  on  his  back,  and  to  vary  in 
other  respects  the  means  of  procuring  a  progressive 
motion. 

*  Translator  of  Dr.  Frai.klin'i  Worki  into  Frepch. 


ESSAYS.  187 

Wha  i  he  is  seized  with  the  cramp  in  the  leg,  the 
m*ihod  *f  driving  it  away  is  to  give  lo  the  parts  af 
ford  a  sudden,  vigorous  and  violent  shock  ;.wfiich 
he  may  do  in  the  air,  as  he  swivns  on  his  back. 

During  the  great  heats  of  summer,  there  is  no  dan 
ger  in  bathing,  however  warm  we  may  be,  in  rivers 
which  have  been  thoroughly  warmed  by  the  sun. 
But  to  throw  one's  self  into  cold  spring  water,  when 
the  body  has  been  heated  by  exercise  in  the  sun,  is 
an  imprudence  which  may  prove  fatal.  I  once  kne\v 
an  instance  of  four  young  men,  who,  having  worked 
at  harvest  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  with  a  view  of  re 
freshing  themselves,  plunged  into  a  spring  of  cold 
water :  two  died  upon  the  spot,  a  third  the  next 
morning,  and  the  fourth  recovered  with  great  difficul 
ty.  A  copious  draught  of  cold  water,  in  similar  cir 
cumstances,  is  frequently  attended  with  the  same 
effect  in  North  America. 

The  exercise  of  swimming  is  one  of  the  most  healthy 
and  agreeable  in  the  world.  After  having  swam  for 
an  hour  or  two  in  the  evening,  one  sleeps  coolly  the 
whole  night,  even  during  the  most  ardent  heat  of 
summer.  Perhaps  the  pores  being  cleansed,  the  in 
sensible  perspiration  increases,  and  occasions  this 
coolness.  It  is  certain,  that  much  swimming  is  the 
means  of  stopping  a  diarrhoea,  and  even  of  producing 
a  constipation.  With  respect  to  those  who  do  not 
knowhovvto  swim,  or  who  are  affected  with  a  diarrhoea 
at  a  season  which  does  not  permit  them  to  use  thai 
exercise,  a  warm  bath,  by  cleansing  and  putrifying 
the  skin,  is  found  very  salutary,  and  often  effects  a 
radical  cure.  I  speak  from  my  own  experience, 
frequently  repeated,  and  that  of  others,  to  whom  I 
have  recommended  this. 

You  will  not  be  displeased  if  I  conclude  these  hasty 
remarks  by  informing  you,  that  as  the  ordinary 
method  of  swimming  is  reduced  to  the  act  of  rowing 
with  the  arms  and  legs,  and  is  consequently  a  labo 
rious  and  fatiguing  operation  when  the  space  of  water 
to  be  crossed^is  considerable ;  there  is  a  method  in 
which  a  swimmer  may  pass  to  great  distances  with 
much  facility,  hv  means  of  a  sail. '  This  discovery  ] 


188  ESSAYS 

fortunately  made  by  accident,  and  in  the  following 
manner : 

When  I  was  a  boy,  I  amused  myself  one  day  with 
flying  a  paper  kite ;  and,  approaching  the  back  of  3 
pond,  which  was  near  a  mile  .broad,  I  tied  the  string 
to  a  stake,  and  the  kite  ascended  to  a  very  consider* 
ble  height  above  the  pond,  while  I  was  swimming. 
In  a  little  time,  being  desirous  of  amusing  myself  with 
my  kite,  and  enjoying  at  the  same  time  the  pleasure 
of  swimming,  I  returned,  and  loosing  from  the  staka 
the  string  with  the  little  stick  which  was  fastened  to 
it,  went  again  into  the  water,  where  I  found,  that, 
lying  on  myjback,  and  holding  the  stick  in  my  hands, 
I  was  drawn  along  the  surface  of  the  water  in  a  very 
agreeable  manner.  Having  then  engaged  another 
boy  to  sarry  my  clothes  round  the  pond,  to  a  place 
which  I  pointed  out  to  him,  on  the  other  side,  I  began 
to  cross  the  pond  with  my  kite,  which  carried  me 
quite  over  without  the  least  fatigue,  and  with  the 
greatest  pleasure  imaginable.  I  was  only  obliged 
occasionally  to  halt  a  little  in  my  course,  and  resist 
its  progress,  when  it  appeared  that,  by  following  too 
quick,  I  lowered  the  kite  too  much  ;  by  doing  which 
occasionally  I  made  it  rise  again.  I  have  never  since 
that  time  practised  this  singular  mode  of  swimming, 
though  I  think  it  not  impossible  to  cross  in  this  man 
ner  from  Dover  to  Calais.  The  packet-boat,  how 
ever,  is  still  preferrable. 


NEW  MODE  OF  BATHING. 

EXTRACTS     OR    LETTERS    TO   M.    DUBOURG. 

London,  July  28,  1768. 

1  GREATLY  approve  the  epithet  which  you  give,  in 
your  letter  of  the  8th  of  June,  to  the^iew  method  ol 
treating  the  small-pox,  which  you  call  the  tonic  o- 
bracing  method ;  I  will  take  occasion,  from  it,  to 
u«ci)iion  a  practice  to  which  I  have  accustomed  my- 


ESSAYS.  U9 

self.  You  know  the  cold  bath  has  long  been  in  vogue 
nere  as  a  tonic :  but  the  shock  of  the  cold  water  hath 
always  appeared  to  me,  generally  speaking,  as  too 
violent,  and  I  have  found  it  much  more  agreeable  to 
my  constitution  to  bathe  in  another  element — I  mean 
cold  air.  With  this  view  I  rise  early  almost  every 
morning,  and  sit  in  my  chamber  without  any  clothes 
whatever,  half  an  hour  or  an  hour,  according  to  the 
season,  either  reading  or  writing.  This  practice  is 
not  in  the  teast  painful,  but  on  the  contrary,  agree 
able  ;  and  "if  I  return  to  bed  afterwards,  before  I  dress 
myself,  as  it  sometimes  happens,  I  make  a  supple 
ment  to  my  night's  rest  of  one  or  two  hours  of  the 
most  pleasing  sleep  that  can  be  imagined.  I  find  nu 
ill  consequences  whatever  resulting  from  it,  and  that 
at  least  it  does  not  injure  my  health.,  if  it  does  not  in 
fact  contribute  to  its  preservation. — 1  shall  therefore 
call  it  a  bracing,  or  tome  bath. 

March  10,  1773. 

I  SHALL  not  attempt  to  explain  why  damp  clothes 
occasion  colds,  rather  than  wet  ones,  because  I 
doubt  the  fact ;  I  imagine  that  neither  the  one  nor 
the  other  contribute  to  this  effect,  and  that  the  causes 
of  cold  are  totally  independent  of  wet,  and  even  of 
cold.  I  propose  writing  a  short  paper  on  this  sub 
ject,  the  first  moment  of  leisure  I  have  at  my  dispo 
sal.  In  the  mean  time,  I  can  only  say,  that  having 
some  suspicions  that  the  common  notion,  which  at 
tributes  to  cold  the  property  of  stopping  the  pores  and 
obstructing  perspiration,  was  ill-feu ided,  I  engaged 
a  young  physician,  who  is  making  some  experiments 
with  Sanctorius's  balance,  to  estimate  the  different 
proportions  of  his  perspiration,  when  remaining  one 
hour  quite  naked,  and  another  warmly  clothed. — 
H*e  pursued  the  experiment  in  this  alternate  man 
ner  for  eight  hours  successively,  and  found  his  per- 
'piration  almost  double  during  those  hours  in  which 
ie  was  naked. 


190  ESSAYS 


O1WERVATIONS  ON   THE    GENERALLY    PRF.VAILlNfl 
DOCTRINES  OF  LIFE  AND  DEATH. 

To  the  same. 

YOUR  observations  on  the  causes  of  death,  and  tni 
experiments  which  you  propose  for  recalling  to  lif  j 
those  who  appear  to  be  killed  by  lightning  demon 
strate  equally  your  sagacity  and  humanity.     It  ap-  i 
pears  that  the  doctrines  of  life  and  death,  in  general,  j 
are  yet  but  little  understood. 

A  toad  Uuried  in  the  sancl  will  live,  it  is  said,  un-  \ 
til  the  sa?nd  becomes  petrified ;  and  then,  being  in* 
closed  in  the  stone,  it  may  live  for  we  know  not  how 
many  ages.  The  facts  which  are  cited  in  support  of 
this  opinion,  are'too  numerous  and  too  circumstantial 
not  to  deserve  a  certaki  degree  of  credit.  As  we  are 
accustomed  to  see  all  the  animals  with  which  we  are 
acquainted  eat  and  drink,  it  appears  to  us  difficult  to 
conceive,  how  a  toad  can  be  supported  in  such  a  dun 
geon.  But  if  we  reflect  that  the  necessity  of  nourish 
ment  which  animals  experience  in  their  ordinary 
state,  proceeds  from  the  continual  waste  of  their  sub 
stance  by  perspiration ;  it  will  appear  less  incredi 
ble,  that  some  animals,  in  a  torpid  stale,  perspiring 
less,  because  they  use  no  exercise,  should  have  less 
need  of  aliment;  and  that  others,  which  are  covered 
with  scales  oj  shells,  which  stop  perspiration,  such 
as  land  and  sea  turtles,  serpents  and  some  species  of 
fish,  should  be  able  to  subsist  a  considerable  time 
without  any  nourishment  whatever.  A  plant,  with 
its  flowers,  fades  and  dies  immediately,  if  exposed  to 
the  air  without  having  its  roots  immersed  in  a  humid 
•oil,  from  which  it  may  draw  a  sufficient  quantity  o* 
moisture  to  supply  that  which  exhales  from  its  sub- 
Bianco,  and  is  carried  off  continually  by  the  air. 
Perhaps,  however,  if  it  were  buried  in  quick-silver,  it 
might  preserve,  for  a  considerable  space  of  time,  itt  . 
vegetable  life,  its  smell  and  colour.  If  this  be  th» 
case,  it  might  prove  a  commodious  method  of  trans* 
porting  from  distant  countries  those  delicate  planl 
which  are  unable  to  sustain  the  inclemency  of  the 


ESSAYS.  191 

WffMtftftr  at  sea,  and  which  require  particular  care 
ana  attention. 

I  have  seen  an  instance  of  common  flies  preserved 
in  a  manner  somewhat  similar.  They  nad  been 
drowned  in  Madeira  wine,  apparently  about  the  time 
it  was  bottled  in  Virginia,  to  be  sent  to  London.  At 
the  opening  of  one  of  the  bottles,  at  the  house  of  a 
friend  where  I  was,  three  drowned  flies  fell  into  the 
first  glass  that  was  filled.  Having  heard  it  remarked 
fhat  drowned  flies  were  capable  of  being  revived  by 
the  rays  of  the  sun,  I  proposed  making  the  experi 
ment  upon  these.  They  were  therefore  exposed  to 
the  sun,upon  a  sieve  which  had  been  employed  to  strain 
them  out  of  the  wine.  In  less  than  three  hours,  two  of 
them  by  degrees  began  to  recover  life.  They  com 
menced  by  some  convulsive  motions  in  the  thighs, 
and  at  length  they  raised  themselves  upon  their  legs, 
wiped  their  eyes  with  their  fore  feet,  beat  and  brush 
ed  their  wings  with  their  hind  feet,  and  soon  after  be 
gan  to  fly,  finding  themselves  in  Old  England,  with 
out  knowing  how  they  came  thither.  The  third  con 
tinued  lifeless  until  sun-set,  when,  losing  all  hopes  of 
him,  he  was  thrown  away. 

I  wish  it  were  possiblt,  from  this  instance,  to  in 
vent  a  method  of  embalming  drowned  persons  in  such 
a  manner,  that  they  may  be  recalled  to  life  at  any 
period,  however  distant:  for,  having  a  very  ardent 
desire  to  see  and  observe  the  state  of  America  an 
hundred  years  hence,  I  should  prefer  to  an  ordinary 
death,  the  being  immersed  in  a  cask  of  Madeira 
wine,  with  a  few  friends,  until  that  time,  then  to  be 
recalled  to  life  by  the  solar  warmth  of  my  dear  > 
country !  But  since,  in  all  probability,  we  live  in  arv£ 
ge  too  early,  and  too  near  the  infancy  of  science,  to 
ee  such  an  art  brought  in  our  time  to  its  perfection,  1 
roust,  for  the  present,  content  myself  with  tlie  treat, 
which  you  are  so  kind  as  to  promise  me,  of  the  resur» 
section  of  a  fowl  or  a  turkey-cock. 


>  take  a  long  voyage,  nothii  g  < 
a.  secret  till  the  moment  of  yotii 
this,  you  will  be  continually  in 


192  ESSAVS. 

PRECAUTIONS. 

TO   BE   USED    BY   THOSE    WHO   ARE   ABOUT  TO 
UNDERTAKE   A    SEA    VOYAGE. 

WHEN  you  intend  to  ta 
better  than  to  keep  it  a  s 
departure.     Without  thi     _ 
errupted  and  tormented  by  visits  from  friends  and 

cquaintances,  who  not  only  make  you  lose  you. 
valuable  time,  but  make  you  forget  a  thousand  things 
which  you  wish  to  remember ;  so  that  when  you  ar6 
embarked  and  fairly  at  sea,  you  recollect,  with  much 
uneasiness,  affairs,  which  you  have  not  terminated* 
accounts  that  you  have  not  settled,  and  a  number  of 
things  which  you  proposed  to  carry  with  you,  and 
which  you  rind  the  want  of  every  moment.  Would 
it  not  be  attended  with  the  best  consequences  to  re 
form  such  a  custom,  and  to  suffer  a  traveller,  without 
deranging  him,  to  make  his  preparations  in  quietness, 
to  set  apart  a  few  days,  when  these  are  finished,  to 
take  leave  of  his  friends,  and  tc  receive  their  good 
wishes  for  his  happy  return. 

It  is  not  always  in  one's  power  to  choose  a  cap- 
*ain ;  though  great  part  of  the  pleasure  and  happi 
ness  of  the  passage  depends  upon  this  choice,  and 
though  one  must  for  a  time  be  confined  to  his  com 
pany,  and  be  in  some  measure  under  his  command. 
If  he  is  a  social  seusibleman,  obliging  and  of  a  good 
disposition,  you  will  be  so  much  the  happier.  One 
sometimes  meets  with  people  of  this  description,  but 
hey  are  not  common ;  however,  if  your's  be  not  ol 
his  number,  if  he  be  a  good  seaman,  attentive,  care. 
4il,  and  active  in  the  management  of  his  vessel,  you 
nust  dispense'  with  the  rest,  for  these  are  the  most 
essential  qualities. 

Whatever  right  you  may  have  by  your  agreement 
with  him  to  the  provisions  he  has  taken  on  board  for 
the  use  of  the  passengers,  it  is  always  proper  to  have 
some  private  store,  which  you  may  make  use  of  oc 
casionally.  You  ought  therefore  to  provide  good  wa 
ter,  that  of  the  ship  being  often  bad  •  but  you  musi 


ESSAYS.  193 

*»rt  it  into  bottles,  without  which  you  cannot  expect 
k>  preserve  it  sweet.  You  ought  also  to  carry  with 
you  good  tea,  ground  coffee,  chocolate,  wine  of  that 
sort  which  you  like  best,  cider,  dried  raisins,  al 
monds,  sugar,  capilaire,  citrons,  rum,  eggs  dipped  in 
oil,  portable  soup,  bread  twice  baked.  With  regard 
to  poultry,  it  is  almost  useless  to  carry  any  with  you, 
unless  you  resolve  to  undertake  the  office  of  feeding 
and  fattening  them  yourself.  With  the  little  care 
which  is  taken  of  them  on  board  a  ship,  they  are  al 
most  all  sickly,  and  their  flesh  is  as  tough  as  leather. 

All  sailors  entertain  an  opinion,  which  undoubt 
cdly  originated  formerly  from  a  want  of  water,  and 
when  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  be  sparing  of  it, 
that  poultry  never  knew  when  they  had  drank 
enough,  and  that  when  water  is  given  them  at  dis» 
wTeiion,  they  generally  kill  themselves  by  drinking 
Beyond  measure.  In  consequence  of  this  opinion, 
they  give  them  water  only  once  in  Iwo  days,  and 
even  then  in  small  quantities :  but  as  they  pour  this 
rater  into  troughs  inclining  on  one  side,  which  occa 
sions  it  to  run  to  the  lower  part,  it.  thence  happens 
that  they  are  obliged  to  mount  one  upon  the  back  of 
another  in  order  to  reach  it;  and  there  are  some 
which  cannot  even  dip  their  beaks  in  it.  Thus  con 
tinually  tantalized  and  tormented  by  thirst,  they  are 
unable  to  digest  their  food,  which  is  very  dry,  and 
they  soon  fall  sick  and  die.  Some  of  them  are  found 
thus  every  morning,  and  are  thrown  into  the  sea; 
while  those  which  are  killed  for  the  table  are  scarcely 
fit  to  be  eaten.  To  remedy  this  inconvenience,  it  wi? 
be  necessary  to  divide  their  troughs  into  small  com 
partments,  in  such  a  manner  that  each  of  them  may 
be  capable  of  containing  water;  but  this  is  seldom 
or  never  done.  On  this  account,  sheep  and  hogi 
are  to  be  considered  as  the  best  fresh  provisions  that 
one  can  have  at  sea ;  mutton  there,  bein^  in  general 
very  good,  and  pork  excellent. 

It  may  happen  that  some  of  the  provisions  and 
itores,  which  I  have  recommended,  may  become 
almost  useless,  by  the  care  which  the  captain  has 
taken  to  lay  in  a  proper  stock :  but  in  such  a  case 
you  may  dispose  of  it  to  relieve  the  poor  passengers 


194  ESSAYS. 

who,  paying  less  for  their  passage,  are  stowed  among 
the  common  sailors,  and  have  no  right  to  the  cap 
tain's  provisions,  except  such  part  of  them  as  is 
used  for  feeding  the  crew.  These  passengers  are  some 
times  sick,  melancholy,  and  dejected  ;  and  there  are 
often  women  and  children  among  them,  neither  of 
whom  have  any  opportunity  of  procuring  those  things 
which  I  have  mentioned,  and  of  which  perhaps  they 
kdve  the  greatest  need.  By  distributing  amongst 
them  a  part  of  your  superfluity,  you  may  be  of  the  great 
est  assistance  lo  them.  You  may  restore  their  health, 
save  their  lives,  and  in  short  render  them  happy; 
which  always  affords  the  liveliest  sensation  to  a  feel 
ing  mind. 

The  most  disagreeable  thing  at  sea  is  the  cookery;  for 
there  is  not,  properly  speaking,  any  professed  cook  on 
board.  The  worst  sailor  is  generally  chosen  for  that  pur 
pose,  who]forthe  most  part  is  equally  dirty.  Hence  comes 
the  proverb  used  among  English  sailors,  that  Godsends 
meaty  and  the  devil  sends  cooks.  Those,  however, 
who  have  a  better  opinion  of  Providence,  will  think 
otherwise.  Knowing  that  sea  a''r,  and  the  exercise 
or  motion  which  they  receive  from  the  rolling  of  the 
ship,  have  a  wonderful  effect  in  whetting  the  appe 
tite,  they  will  say,  that  Providence  has  given  sailors 
bad  cooks  to  prevent  them  from  eating  too  much ; 
or  that,  knowing  they  would  have  bad  cooks,  he  has 
given  them  a  good  appetite  to  prevent  them  from  dy 
ing  with  hunger.  However,  if  you  have  no  confi 
dence,  in  these  succours  of  Providence,  you  may 
yourself,  with  a  lamp  and  a  boiler,  by  the  help  of  a 
little  spirits  of  wine,  prepare  some  food,  such  as  soup, 
hash,  &c.  A  small  oven  made  of  tin-plate  is  not  a 
ad  piece  of  furniture ;  your  servant  may  roast  in  Jt 
piece  of  mutton  or  pork.  If  you  are  ever  tempted 
o  eat  salt  beef,  which  is  often  very  good,  you  will 
find  that  cider  is  the  best  liquor  to  quench  the  thirst 
generally  caused  by  salt  meat  or  salt  fish.  Sea-bis 
cuit,  which  is  too  hard  for  the  teeth  of  some  people, 
may  be  softened  by  steeping  it;  but  bread  double 
baked  is  best ;  for  being  made  of  good  loaf-bread  cut 
into  slices,  and  baked  a  second  time,  it  readily  im 
bibes  water,  becomes  soft,  and  is  easily  digested :  it 


ESSAYS.  195 

consequently  forms  excellent  nourishment,  much  su- 
owior  to  that  of  biscuit,  which  has  not  been  ferment 
ed. 

I  must  here  observe,  that  this  double-baked  bread 
was  originally  the  real  biscuit  prepared  to  keep  at 
sea  ;  fur  the  word  biscuit,  in  French,  signifies  twice 
baked.*  Peas  often  boil  badly,  and  do  not  beeom* 
soft;  iu  such  a  case,  by  putting  a  two-pound  sho 
into  the  kettle,  the  rolling  of  the  vessel,  by  means  o 
his  bullet,  will  convert  the  peas  into  a  porridge,  liX 
mustard. 

Having  often  seen  soup,  when  put  upon  the  table 
at  sea  in  broad  flat  dishes,  thrown  out  on  every  sido 
by  the  rolling  of  the  vessel,  I  have  wished  that  our 
tin-men  would  make  our  soup-basins  with  divisions 
or  compartments ;  forming  small  plates,  proper  for 
containing  soup  for  one  verson  only.  By  this  dis 
position,  the  soup,  in  an  extraordinary  roll,  would 
not  be  thrown  out  of  the  plate,  and  would  not  fall 
into  the  breasts  of  those  who  are  at  table,  and  scald 
them.  Having  entertained  you  with  these  things  of 
little  importance,  permit  me  now  to  conclude 'with 
some  general  reflections  upon  navigation. 

When  navigation  is  employed  only  for  transport 
ing  necessary  provisions  from  one  country,  where 
they  abound,  to  another  where  they  are  wanting : 
when  by  this  it  prevents  famines,  which  were  so 
frequent  and  so  ratal  before  it  was  invented  and  be 
came  so  common  ;  we  cannot  help  considering  it  as 
one  of  those  art  which  contribute  most  to  the  hap 
piness  of  mankind.  But  when  it  is  employed  to 
transport  things  of  no  utility,  or  articles  of  luxury,  it 
is  then  uncertain  whether  the  advantages  resultin 
'rom  it  are  sufficient  to.  counter-balarie  the  misfojr 
unes  it  occasioived  by  exposing  the  lives  of  so  mar^ 
ndividuals  upon  the  vast  ocean.  And  when  it  i 
used  to  plunder  vessels  and  transport  slaves,  it  is 
evidently  only  the  dreadful  means  of  increasing  thoso 
calamities  which  afflict  human  nature. 

One  is  astonished  to  think  on  the  number  of  ves 
sels  and  men  who  are  daily  exposed  in  going  to  bring 


*  It  it  derived  from  "  bis'*  again,    "  cuit"  baked 

9 


19S  ESSAYS. 

tea  from  China,  coft'ee  from  Arabia,  and  sugar  ariQ 
tobacco  from  America;  all  commodities  which  our 
ancestors  lived  very  well  without.  The  sugar  trade 
employs  nearly  a  thousand  vessels  ;  and  that  of 
tobacec  almost  the  same  number.  Witli  regard  to 
the  utility  of  tobacco,  little  can  be  said ;  and,  with 
regard  to  sugar,  how  much  more  meritorious  would 
it  be  to  sacrifice  the  momentary  pleasure  which  we 
receive  from  drinking  it  once  or  twice  a-day  in  our 

ea,  than  to  encourage  the  numberless  cruelties  that 
are  continually  exercised  in  order  to  procure  it  fof 
os.? 

A  celebrated  French  moralist  said,  that,  when  he 
considered  the  wars  which  we  foment  in  Africa  to 
get  negroes,  the  great  number  who  of  course  perish 
in  these  wars  ;  the  multitude  of  those  wretches  who 
die  in  their  passage,  by  disease,  bad  air,  and  bad 
provisions;  and,  lastly,  how  many  perish  by  the 
cruel  treatment  they  meet  with  in  a  state  of  slavery  ; 
when  he  saw  a  bit  of  sugar,  he  could  not  help  ima 
gining  it  covered  with  spots  of  human  blood.  But, 
had  he  added  to  these  considerations  the  wars  which 
we  carry  on  against  one  another,  to  take  and  retake 
the  islands  that  produce  this  commodity,  he  would 
not  have  seen  the  sugar  simply  spotted  with  blood, 
ne  would  have  beheld  it  entirely  tinged  with  it. 

These  wars  make  the  maritime  powers  of  Europe, 
and  the  inhabitants  of  Paris  and  London,  pay  much 
dearer  for  their  sugar  than  those  of  Vienna,  though 
they  are  almost  three  hundred  leagues  distant  from 
from  the  sea.  A  pound  of  sugar,  indeed,  oosts  the 
former  not  only  the  price  which  they  give  for  it,  but 
also  .what  they  pay  in  taxes,  necessary  to  support 

he  fleets  and  armies  which^serve  to  defend  and  p-TV 

«ect  the  countries  that  produce  it. 

Sir, 

Vour  most,  obedient  and 
Very  humble  servant, 

B.  FRANKLIN. 


ESSAVS.  m 

ON    LUXURY,    IDLENESS,    AND 
INDUSTRY. 

From  a  Letter  to  Benjamin  Vaughan,  Esq. 
written  in  1784. 

IT  is  wonderful  how  preposterously  the  affairs  of 
his  world  are  managed.  Naturally  one  would  ima 
gine  that  the  interest  of  a  fewindividualsrhould  giva 
way  to  general  interest :  but  individuals  manage  their 
affairs  with  so  much  more  application,  industry,  and 
address,  than  the  public  do  theirs,  that  general  inter 
est  most  commonly  gives  way  to  particular.  We  as 
semble  parliaments  and  councils,  to  have  the  benefit 
of  their  collected  wisdom  ;  but  we  necessarily  have, 
at  the  same  time,  the  inconvenience  of  their  collected 
passions,  prejudices,  and  private  interests.  By  tho 
nelp  of  these,  artful  men  overpower  their  wisdom, 
ana  dupe  its  possessors;  and  if  we  may  judge  by  the 
acts,  arrests,  and  edicts,  all  the  world  over,  tor  regu 
lating  commerce,  an  assembly  of  great  men  is  the 
greatest  fool  upon  earth. 

I  have  not  yet,  indeed,  thought  of  a  remedy  for 
luxury.  I  am  not  sure  that  in  a  great  state  it  is  ca 
pable  of  a  remedy  ;  nor  that  the  evil  is  in  itself  al 
ways  so  great  as  is  represented.  Suppose  we  in 
clude  the  definition  of  luxury  all  unnecessary  ex 
pense,  and  then  let  us  consider  whether  laws  to  pre 
vent  such  expense  are  possible  to  be  executed  in  a 
great  country,  and  whether,  if  they  could  be  executed, 
our  people  generally  would  be  a  happier,  or  even  richer. 
k  not  the  hope  of  being  one  day  able  to  purchase  and 
njoy  luxuries  a  great  spur  to  labour  and  industry? 
May  not  luxury,  therefore,  produce  more  than  i 
onsumes,  if,  without  such  a  spur,  people  would  be, 
as  they  are  naturally  enough  inclined  to  be,  lazy  and 
indolent.  To  this  purpose  I  remember  a  circurr- 


*  Member  of  parliament  for  the  borough  of  Calne,  in  Wiltshire, 
between  whom  and   our  author  there  »ub»isted  a  very  clbie  friead. 


198  ESSAYS. 

stance.  The  skipper  of  a  shallop,  errylo*<sd  oe- 
tvveen  Cape  May  and  Philadelphia,  had  done  its 
some  small  service,  for  which  he  refused  to  be  paid. 
My  wife  understanding  that  he  had  a  daughter,  sent 
her  a  present  of  a  new  fashioned  cap.  Three  years 
after,  this  skipper  being  at  my  house  with  an  old  far 
mer  of  Cape  May,  his  passenger,  lie  mentioned  the 
cap,  and  how  much  his  daughter  had  been  pleased 
with  it.  "  But  (said  he)  it  proved  a  dear  cap  to  ou 
congregation." — "  How  so  ?" — "  When  my  daughte 
appeared  with  it  at  meeting,  it  was  so  much  admired 
that  all  the  girls  resolved  to  get  such  CF  }>s  from  Phi 
ladelphia  ;  and  my  wife  and  I  computed  that  the 
whole  could  not  have  cost  less  than  a  hundred 
pounds." — "  True  (said  the  farmer)  but  you  do  not 
tell  all  the  story.  I  think  the  cap  was  nevertheless 
an  advantage  to  us ;  for  it  was  the  first  thing  that  put 
our  girls  upon  knitting  worsted  mittens  for  sale  at 
Philadelphia,  that  they  might  have  wherewithal  to 
buy  caps  and  ribbons  there  ;  and  you  know  that  that 
industry  has  continued,  and  is  likely  to  continue  and 
increase  to  a  much  greater  value,  and  answer  better 
purposes." — Upon  the  whole,  I  was  more  reconciled 
to  this  little  piece  of  luxury,  since  not  only  the  girls 
were  made  happier  by  having  fine  caps,  but  the  Phi- 
ladelphians  by  the  supply  of  warm  mittens. 

In  our  commercial  towns  upon  the  sea  coast,  for 
tunes  will  occasionally  be  made.  Some  of  those  who 
grow  rich  will  be  prudent,  live  within  bounds,  and 
preserved  what  they  have  gained  for  their  posterity; 
others,  fond  of  showing  their  wealth,  will  be  extra 
vagant,  and  ruin  themselves.  Laws  cannot  preven 
this  ;  and  perhaps  it  ianot  always  an  evil  to  the  pub 
ic.  A  shilling  spent  idly  by  a  fool,  may  be  picke 
up  by  a  wiser  person,  who  knows  better  what  to  d 
with  '\  It  is  therefore  not  lost.  A  vain,  silly  fellow 
ouilds  a  hre  house,  furnishes  it  richly,  lives  in  it  ex 
pensively,  and  in  a  few  years  ruins  himself;  but  the 
masons,  carpenters,  smiths,  and  other  honest  trades 
men,  have  been  by  his  employ  assisted  in  maintain 
ing  and  raising  their  families  ;  the  farmer  has  been 
paid  for  his  labour,  and  encouraged,  and  the  estate  is 
*aow  in  better  hands.  In  some  cases,  indeed,  certain 


ESSAYS  J99 

modes  of  luxury  may  be  a  public  evil,  in  the  same 
manner  as  it  is  a  private  one.  If  there  be  a  nation, 
for  instance,  that  exports  its  beef  and  linen,  to  pay 
for  the  importation  of  claret  and  porter,  while  a  great 
part  of  its  people  live  upon  potatoes,  and  wear  no 
shirts ;  wherein  does  it  differ  from  the  sot,  who  lets 
his  family  starve,  and  sells  his  clothes  to  buy  drink? 
Our  American  commerce  is,  I  confess,  a  little  in  this 
way.  We  sell  our  victuals  to  the  islands  for  rum  and 
Sugar ;  the  substantial  necessaries  of  life  for  super 
fluities.  But  we  have  plenty,  and  live  well  never 
theles£ ;  though  by  being  sobe'rer,  we  might  be  richer 

The  vast  quantity  of  forest  land  we  have  yet  to 
clear,  and  put  in  order  for  cultivation,  will  for  a  long 
time  keep  the  body  of  our  nation  laborious  and  fru 
gal.  Forming  an  opinion  of  our  people,  and  their 
manners,  by  what  is  seen  among  the  inhabitants  ol 
the  sea-ports,  is  judging  from  an  improper  sample. 
The  people  of  the  trading  towns  may  be  rich  and 
luxurious,  while  the  country  possesses  all  the  virtues 
that  tend  to  promote  happiness  and  public  prosperity. 
Those  towns  are  not  much  regarded  by  the  country; 
they  are  hardly  considered  as  an  essential  part  of  the 
States ;  and  the  experience  of  the  last  war  has  shown ; 
that  their  being  in  the  possession  of  the  enemy  did 
not  necessarily  draw  on  the  subjection  of  the  coun 
try  ;  which  bravely  continued  to  maintain  its  free 
dom  and  independence  notwithstanding. 

It  has  been  computed  by  some  political  arithme 
ticians,  that  if  every  man  and  woman  would  work 
four  hours  each  day  on  something  useful,  that  labour 
would  produce  sufficient  to  procure  all  the  necessa 
ries  and  comforts  of  life ;  want  and  misery  would  be 
anished  out  of  the  world,  and  the  rest  of  the  twenty 
our  honrs  might  be  leisure  and  pleasure. 

What  occasions  then  so  much  want  and  misery  ? 
It  is  th<j  employment  of  men  and  women  in  workf 
that  produce  neither  the  necessaries  nor  conve 
niences  of  life ;  who,  with  those  who  do  nothing, 
consume  necessaries  raised  by  .the  laborious.  To 
explain  this: 

The  first  elements  of  wealth  are  obtained  by  labour 
from  the  earth  and  waters.  I  have  land,  and  raise 


200  ESS  A  VS. 

corn.  With  this  if  I  feed  a  family  that  does  nothing,  my 
com  will  be  consumed,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  I 
shall  be  no  richer  than  I  was  at  the  beginning.  But, 
if,  while  I  feed  them,  I  employ  them,  some  in  spin- 
fling,  others  in  making  bricks,  &c.  for  building,  J.ha 
value  of  my  corn  will  be  arrested  a..d  remain  with 
me,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  we  may  be  all  better 
clothed  and  better  lodged.  And  if,  instead  of  em 
ploying  a  nan  I  feed  in  making  bricks,  I  employ  him 
m  fiddling  for  me,  the  corn  he  eats  is  gone,  and  n 
part  of  his  manufacture  remains  to  augment  tha 
wealth  and  convenience  of  the  family ;  I  shall,  there 
fore,  be  the  poorer  for  this  fiddling  man,  unless  the 
rest  of  my  family  v/ork  more,  or  eat  less,  to  make  up 
the  deficiency  he  occasions. 

fr?  Look  round  the  world,  and  see  the  millions  employed 
in  doing  nothing,  or  in  something  that  amounts  to 
nothing,  when  the  necessaries  and  conveniences  of 
life  are  in  question.  What  is  the  bulk  of  commerce, 
for  which  we  fight  and  destroy  each  other,  but  the 
toil  of  millions  for  superfluities,  to  the  great  hazard 
and  loss  of  many  lives,  by  the  constant  dangers  of  the 
sea?  How  much  labour  is  spent  in  buildings,  and  fit 
ting  great  ships,  to  go  to  China  and  Arabia  for  tea 
and  coffee,  to  the  West  Indies  for  sugar,  to  America 
for  tobacco  ?  These  things  cannot  be  called  the  ne 
cessaries  of  life,  for  our  ancestors  lived  very  com 
fortably  without  them. 

A  question  may  be  asked — Could  all  these  people 
now  employed  in  raising,  making,  or  carrying'  super 
fluities,  be  subsisted  by  raising  necessaries  ?  I  think 
they  might.  The  world  is  large,  and  a  great  part  of 
it  is  still  uncultivated.  Prlany  hundred  millions  of 
cres  hi  Asia,  Africa,  and  America,  are  still  in  a 
orest;  and  a  great  deal  even  in  Europe.  On  a  hun 
dred  acres  of  this  forest,  a  man  might  become  a  sub 
stantial  farmer ;  and  a  hundred  thousand  men  em 
ployed  in  clearing  each  his  hundred  acres,  would 
hardly  brighten  a  spot  large  enough  to  be  visible  from 
the  moon,  unless  with  Herschel's  telescope  ;  so  vast 
are  the  regions  still  in  wood. 

It  is,  however,  some  comfort  to  reflect  that  upon 
Ihe  whole,  the  quantity  of  industry  and  prudeuc* 


ESSAYS.  201 

among  mankind  exceeds  the  quantity  of  idleness  and 
folly.  Hence  the  increase  of  good  biddings,  farms 
cultivated,  and  populous  cities  filled  with  wealth,  all 
over  Europe,  which  a  few  ages  since  were  only  to 
to  be  found  on  the  coast  of  the  Mediterranean  ;  and 
this  notwithstanding  the  mad  wa*s  continually  rag 
ing,  by  which  are  often  destroyed  in  one  year,  the 
works  of  many  years  peace.  So  that  we  may  hope 
lie  luxury  of  a  few  merchants  on  the  coast  will  no 
de  the  ruin  of  America. 

One  rejection  more,  and  I  will  end  this  long  ram 
Wing  letter.  Almost  all  the  parts  of  our  bodies  re 
quire  some  expense.  The  feet  demands  shoes ;  the 
legs,  stockings;  the  rest  of  the  body  clothing;  and 
the  belly  a  good  deal  of  victuals.  Our  eyes,  though 
exceedingly  useful,  ask  when  reasonable,  only  the 
cheap  assistance  of  spectacles,  which  could  not  much 
impair  our  finances.  But  the  eyes  of  other  people 
are  the  eyes  that  ruin  us.  If  all  but  myself  were 
blind,  I  should  want  neither  fine  clothes,  fine  houses, 
nor  fine  furniture 


ON  THE  SLAVE  TRADE. 

READING  in  the  newspapers  >the  speech  of  Mr. 
Jackson  in  congress,  against  meddling  with  the  atlair 
of  slavery,  or  attempting  to  mend  the  condition  of 
ilaves,  it  put  me  in  mind  of  a  similar  speech,  made 
•bout  one  hundred  years  since,  by  Sidi  Mahome 
.brahim,  a  member  of  the  divan  of  Algiers,  which 
nay  be  seen  in  Martin's  account  of  his  consulship, 
1687.  It  was  against  granting  the  petition  of  the  sect 
called  Erika,  or  Purists,  who  prayed  for  the  aboli 
tion  of  piracy  and  slavery,  as  being  unjust — Mr. 
Jackson  does  not  quote  it :  perhaps  he  has  not  seen 
it.  If,  therefore,  some  of  its  reasonings  are  to  be 
found  in  his  eloquent  speech,  it  may  not  only  show 
that  men's  interests  operate,  and  arc  operated  ou 


202  ESSAYS. 

with  surprising  similarity,  in  all  countries  and  cli 
mates,. whenever  they  are  under  similar  circumsian 
ces.  The  African  speech,  as  translated,  is  as  foJ- 
lows: 

"  Alia  Bismillah,  &c.  God  is  great  and  Mahomet 
is  his  prophet" 

44  Have  these  Erika  considered  the  consequences  of 
granting  their  petition  ?  If  we  cease  our  cruize 
against  the  Christians,  how  shall  we  be  furnished 
with  the  commodities  their  countries  produce,  anJ 
which  are>  so  necessary  for  us?  If  we  forbear  to 
make  slaves  of  their  people,  who,  in  this  hot  climate, 
are  to  cultivate  our  lands  ?  Wuo  are  to  perform  the 
common  labours  of  our  city,  and  of  our  families  ? 
Must  we  not  then  be  our  own  slaves  ?  And  is  there 
not  more  compassion  and  more  favour  du.e  to  us 
Mussulmen  than  to  those  Christian  dogs? — We  have 
now  above  fifty  thousand  slaves  in  and  near  Algiers, 
This  number,  if  not  kept  up  by  fresh  supplies,  will 
soon  diminish,  and  be  gradually  annihilated.  If, 
then,  we  cease  taking  and  plundering  the  infidels* 
ships,  and  making  slaves  of  the  seamen  and  passen 
gers,  our  lands  will  become  of  no  value,  for  want  of 
cultivation  ;  the  rents  of  houses  in  the  city  will  sink 
one  half;  and  the  revenues  of  government  arising 
from  the  share  of  prizes,  must  be  totally  destroyed. — 
And  for  what?  To  gratify  the  whim  of  a  whimsical 
sect,  who  would  have  us  not  only  forbear  making 
more  slaves,  but  even  manumit  those  we  have1  But 
who  is  to  indemnify  their  masters  for  the  loss?  Will 
the  state  do  it?  Is  our  treasury  sufficient  ?  Will  the 
Erika  do  it  r  Can  they  do  it?  Or  would  they,  to  do 
what  they  think  justice  to  the  slaves,  do  a  greater  in- 
ustice  to  the  owners !  And  if  we  set  our  slaves  free 
what  is  to  be  done  with  them  ?  Few  of  them  will  re 
turn  to  their  native  countries  ;  they  Know  too  well  the 
greater  hardships  they  must  there  be  subject  to. 
They  will  not  embrace  our  holy  religion  :  they  will 
not  adopt  our  manners :  our  people  will  not  pollute 
themselves  by  inter-marrying  with  them.  Must  we 
maintain  them  as  beggars  in  our  streets ;  or  suffer 
our  properties  to  be  the  prey  of  their  pillage  ?  for  men 
accustomed  to  slavery  will  not  work  for  a  livelihood 


ESSAYS.  203 

when  not  compelled. — And  what  is  there  so  pitiable 
in  their  present  con.iition  ?  Were  they  not  slaves  in 
their  own  countries?  Are  not  Spain,  Portugal,  France, 
and  the  Italian  states,  governed  by  despots,  who  hold 
all  their  subjects  in  slavery,  without  exception? 
Even  England  treats  her  sailors  as  slaves ;  for  they 
are,  whenever  the  government  pleases,  seize  1  and  con 
fined  in  ships  of  war,  condemned  not  only  to  work 
but  to  fight  lor  small  wages,  or  a  mere  subsistence 
not  better  than  our  slaves  are  allowed  by  us.  Ii 
their  condition  then  made  worse  by  their  falling  into  * 
our  hands  ?  No  :  they  have  only  exchanged  ona 
slavery  for  another ;  and  I  may  say  a  better :  for 
here  they  are  brought  into  a  land  where  the  sun  oj 
Islamism  gives  forth  its  light,  and  shines  in  full 
splendour,  and  they  have  an  opportunity  of  making 
themselves  acquainted  with  the  true  doctrine,  and 
theieby  save  their  immortal  souls.  Those  who  re 
main  at  home  have  not  that  happiness.  Sending  the 
slaves  home,  then,  would  be  sending  them  out  of 
light  into  darkness. 

"  I  repeat  the  question,  what  is  to  be  done  with 
them  ?  I  have  heard  it  suggested,  that  they  may  be 
planted  in  the  wilderness,  where  there  is  plenty  of 
land  for  them  to  subsist  on,  and  where  they  may 
flourish  as  a  free  state. — But  they  are,  I  doubt,  too 
little  disposed  to  labour  without  compulsion,  as  well 
as  too  ignorant  to  establish  good  government ;  and 
the  wild  Arabs  would  soon  molest  and  destroy,  or 
again  enslave.,{hem.  While  serving  us,  we  taKe  care 
to  provide  tfygm  with  every  thing;  and  they  are 
treated  with  humanity.  The  labourers  in  their  own 
countries  are,  as  I  am  informed,  worse  fed,  lodged, 
and  clothed.  The  condition  of  most  of  them  is 
therefore  already  mended,  and  requires  no  further 
improvement.  Here  their  lives  are  in  safety.  They 
are  not  liable  to  be  impressed  for  soldiers,  and  forced 
to  cut  one  another's  Christian  throats,  as  in  the  wars 
of  their  own  countries.  If  some  of  the  religious  mad 
bigots  who  now  tease  us  with  their  silly  petitions,  have 
in  a  fct  of  blind  zeal,  freed  their  slaves,  it  was  not  gene 
rosity,  it  was  not  humanity,  that  moved  them  to  th* 
action ;  ii  was  from  the  conscious  burden  of  a  load  of 
9  * 


204  ESSAYS. 

sins,  WK?  hope,  from  the  supposed  rnep  v.s  of  so  good  a 
work,  to  be  excused  from  damnation. — How  grossly 
are  they  mistaken,  in  imagining  slave/y  to  be  disa 
vowed  by  the  Alcoran!  Are  not  the  iwo  precepts, 
to  quote  no  more,  *  Masters,  treat  your  slaves  with 
kindness — Slaves>  serve  your  masters  with  cheerful 
ness  and  fidelity,'  clear  proofs  to  the  contrary?  Nor 
can  the  plundering  of  infidels  be  in  that  sacred  book 
Ibrbidden ;  since  it  is  well  known  from  it,  that  God 
/as  given  the  world,  and  all  that  it  contains,  to  his 
faithful  Musselmen,  who  are  to  enjoy  it,  of  right,  aa 
fast  as  they  conquer  it.  Let  us  then  hear  no  more  o! 
Ihis  detestable  proposition,  the  manumission  ol 
Christian  slaves,  the  adoption  of  which  would,  by 
depreciating  our  lands  and  houses,  and  thereby  de 
priving  so  many  good  citizens  of  their  properties, 
create  universal  discontent,  and  provoke  insurrec 
tions,  to  the  endangering  of  government,  and  produc 
ing  general  confusion.  I  have,  therefore,  no  doubt, 
that  this  wise  council  will  prefer  the  comfort  and 
happiness  of  a  whole  nation  of  true  believers,  to  the 
whim  of  a  few  Erika,  and  dismiss  their  petition." 

The  result  was,  as  Martin  tells  us,  that  the  Pivau 
came  to  this  resolution :  "  That  the  doctrine,  that 
the  plundering  and  enslaving  the  Christians  is  unjust, 
is  at  best  problematical -.but  that  it  is  the  interest 
of  this  state  to  continue  the  practice,  is  clear:  there* 
fore,  let  the  petition  be  rejected." — And  it  was  re 
jected  accordingly. 

-••  And  since  like  motives  are  apt  to  •Produce,  in  th» 
minds  of  men,  like  opinions  and  resolutions,  may  we 
not  venture  to  predict,  from  this  account,  that  the  pe 
titions  to  the  parliament  of  England  for  abolishing 
(lie  slave  trade,  to  say  nothing  of  other  legislatures, 
and  the  debates  upon  them,  will  have  a  similar  con 
elusion. 

HISTORfCUS. 
March  W,  1790. 


ESSAYS.  205 

OBSERVATIONS  ON  WAR. 

BY  the  original  laws  of  nations,  war  and  extirpa 
tion  were  the  punishment  of  injury.  Humanizing  by 
degrees,  it  admitted  slavery  instead  of  death :  a  far 
ther  step  was,  the  exchange  of  prisoners  instead  of 
slavery  :  another,  to  respect  more  the  property  of  pri 
vate  persons  under  conquest,  and  be  content  with  ac 
fjuired  dominion.  Why  should  not  this  law  of  na* 
ions  go  on  improving.''  Ages  have  intervened  be*, 
tween  its  several  steps ;  but  as  knowledge  of  late  in 
creases  rapidly,  why  should  not  those  steps  be  quick 
ened*?  Why  should  it  not  be  agree'a  to,  as  the  future 
law  of  nations,  that  in  any  war  hereafter,  the  follow 
ing  description  of  men  should  be  undisturbed,  have 
the  protection  of  both  sides,  and  be  permitted  to  fol 
low  their  employments  in  security?  viz. 

*.  Cultivators  of  the  earth,  because  they  labour  for 
the  subsistence  of  mankind. 

2.  Fishermen,  for  the  same  reason. 

3.  Merchants  and  traders  in  unarmed  ships,  who 
accommodate    different    nations    by  communicating 
and   exchanging  the  necessaries  and   conveniences 
of  life. 

4.  Artists  and  mechanics,  inhabiting  and  working 
In  open  towns. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  the  hospitals 
of  enemies  should  be  unmolested — they  ought  to  be 
assisted.  It  is  for  the  interest  of  humanity  in  gene 
ral,  that  the  occasions  of  war,  and  the  inducements 
to  it,  should  be  diminished.  If  rapine  be  abolished, 
one  of  the  encouragements  to  war  is  taken  away  ;  and 
aeace  therefore  more  likely  to  continue  and  be  last 
ng. 

The  practice  of  robbing  merchants  on  the  high  sea> 
— a  remnant  of  the  ancient  piracy — though  it  maybe 
accidentally  beneficial  to  particular  persons,  is  fa*/ 
from  being  profitable  to  all  engaged  in  it,  or  to  th* 
nation  that  authorizes  it.  In  the  beginning  of  a  war 
Bomo  rich  ships  are  surprised  and  taken.  This  en 
courages  the  first  adventures  to  fit  out  more  armed 
vessels  •  and  many  others  to  do  the  same.  But  the 


808  ESSAYS. 

Page  174.  "  I  hardly  admit," 
When  this  author  speaks  of  impressing,  pag*)  JW,  h« 
diminishes  the  horror  of  the  practice  as  much  as  pos 
sible,  by  presenting  to  the  mind  one  sailor  only  suf 
fering  a  "  hardship"  (as  he  tenderly  calls  it)  in  soma 
"particular  cases"  only;  and  he  places  against  thia 
private  mischief  the  inconvenience  to  the  trade  of  the 
kingdom. — But  if,  as  he  supposes  is  often  the  case, 
the  sailor  who  is  pressed  and  obliged  to  serve  for  tho 
defence  of  trade,  at  tv-wty-five  shilling  a  month 
could  get  three  pountf «  fifteen  shillings  in  the  mer 
chants'  service,  you  ake  from  him  fifty  shillings  a 
month ;  and  if  you  Wve  100,000  in  your  service  you 
rob  this  honest  in£  ustrious  part  of  society  and  their 
poor  families  of  $50,0001.  per  month,  or  three  mil 
lions  a  year,  and  at  the  same  time  oblige  them  to 
hazard  their  lives  in  fighting  for  the  defence  of  your 
trade ;  to  the  defence  of  which  all  ought  indeed  to 
contribute  (and  sailors  among  the  rest)  in  proportion 
to  their  profits  by  it :  but  this  three  millions  is  more 
than  their  share,  if  they  do  not  pay  with  their  persons; 
but  when  you  force  that,  methinks  you  snould  excuse 
the  other. 

But,  it  r  ay  be  said,  to  give  the  king's  seamen  mer 
chants'  V  ages  would  cost  the  nation  too  much,  and 
and  call  for  more  taxes.  The  question  then  will 
amount  it)  this :  whether  it  be  just  in  a  community, 
that  the  richer  part  should  compel  the  poorer  to  fight 
in  defence  of  them  and  their  properties,  for  such 
wages  as  they  think  fit  to  allow,  and  punish  them  if 
they  refuse?  Our  author  tells  us  that  it  is  "  legal." 
I  have  not  law  enough  to  dispute  his  authorities,  but 
I  cannot  persuade  myself  that  it  it  is  equitable.  I 
will,  however,  own  for  the  present,  that  it  may  be 
lawful  when  necessary;  but  then  I  contend  that 
it  may  be  used  so  as  to  produce  the  same  good  effects 
— the  public  security,  without  doing  so  much  intole» 
rable  injustice  as  attends  the  impressing  common  sea 
men.  In  order  to  be  better  understood  I  would  pre- 
mise  two  things : — First,  That  voluntary  seamen  mav 
b*  had  for  the  service,  if  they  were  sufficiently  paid. 
7  e  proof  is,  that  to  serve  in  the  same  ship,  and  in- 
cw  the  same  dangers,  you  have  no  occasion  to  im 


ESSAYS.  209 

press  captains,  lieutenants,  second  lieutenants,  mid 
shipmen,  parsers,  nor  many  other  officers.  Why, 
but  that  the  profits  of  their  places,  or  the  emolu 
ments  expected,  are  sufficient  inducements?  The 
business  then  is,  to  find  money,  by  impressing  suffi 
cient  to  make  the  sailors  all  volunteers,  as  well  as 
their  officers:  and  this  without  any  fresh  burden 
upon  trade.  The  second  of  my  premises  is,  that 
twenty-five  shillings  a  month,  with  his  share  of  the 
he  salt  beef,  pork,  and  peas-pudding,  being  found 
sufficient  for  the  subsistence  of  a  hard-working  sea 
man,  it  will  certainly  be  so  for  a  sedentary  scholar  01 
gentleman.  1  would  then  propose  to  form  a  treasury, 
out  of  which  encouragements  to  seamen  should  be 
paid.  To  CU  this  treasury,  I  would  impress  a  num 
ber  of  civil  officers,  who  at  present  have  great  sala 
ries,  oblige  them  to  serve  in  their  respective  offices 
for  twenty-five  shillings  a  month  with  their  share  of 
niess  provisions,  and  throw  the  rest  of  their  salaries 
into  the  seamen's  treasury.  If  such  a  press  warrant 
were  given  me  to  execute,  the  first  1  would  press 
should  be  a  Recorder  of  Bristol,  or  a  Mr.  Justice 
Foster,  because  I  might  have  need  of  his  edifying 
example,  to  show  how  much  impressing  ought  to  be 
borne  with  ;  for  he  would  certainly  find,  that  though 
to  be  reduced  to  twenty-five  shilling  a  month  might 
be  a  "  private  mischief"  yet  that,  agreeably  to  his 
maxim  of  law  and  good  policy,  it  "  ought  to  be  borne 
with  patience,"  for  preventing  a  national  calamity. 
Then  1  would  press  the  rest  of  the  judges;  and, 
opening  the  red  book,  1  would  press  every  civil  officer 
of  government  from  501.  a  year  salary  up  to  50,0001. 
which  would  throw  an  immense  sum  into  our  treasu 
ry  :  and  these  gentlemen  could  not  complain,  since 
they  would  receive  twenty-five  shillings  a  month, 
and  their  rations ;  and  this  without  being  obliged  to 
fight.  Lastly,  I  think  I  would  impress  *  *  * 


210  ESSAYS. 

ON  THE  CRIMINAL  LAWS  AND  THE  PRAC 
TICE  OF  PRIVATEERING. 

Letter  to  Benjamin  Faughan,  Esq. 

March,  14,  1785 

.  MY   DEAK   FRIEND, 

AMONG  the  pamphlets  you  lately  sent  me  was  one, 
entitled,  Thoughts  on  Executive  Justice.  In  return 
for  that,  I  send  you  a  French  one  on  the  same 
subject,  Observations  concernant  V  Execution  de 
V  Article  II.  de  la  Declaration  sur  le  Vol.  They  are 
both  addressed  to  the  judges,  but  written,  as  you  will 
see,  in  a  very  different  spirit.  The  English  author  is 
for  hanging  all  thieves.  The  Frenchman  is  for  pro 
portioning  punishments  to  offences. 

If  we  really  believe,  as  we  profess  to  believe,  tha* 
the  law  of  Moses  was  the  law  of  God,  the  dictate  of 
Divine  wisdom,  infinitely  superior  to  human;  on 
what  principle  do  we  ordain  death  as  the  punish. 
ment  of  an  offence,  which,  according  to  that  law,  waj 
only  to  be  punished  by  a  restitution  of  fourfold?  To 
ut  a  man  to  death  for  an  offence  which  does  nal 
eserve  death,  is  it  not  murder?  And  as  the  French 
writer  says,  Doit-on  punir  un  deht  contre  le  societt 
far  un  crime  contre  la  nature  ! 

Superfluous  property  is  the  creature  of  society. 
Simple  and  mild  laws  were  sufficient  to  guard  the 
property  that  was  merely  necessary.  The  savage's 
bow,  his  hatchet,  ami  his  coat  of  skins,  were  suffi 
ciently  secured,  without  law,  by  the  fear  of  personal 
resentment  and  retaliation.  When,  by  virtue  of  the 
first  laws,  part  of  the  society  accumulated  wealth  and 
grew  powerful,  they  enacted  others  moie  severe,  and 
would  protect  their  property  at  the  expense  of  hu 
manity.  This  was  abusing  their  power,  and  com 
mencing  ft  tyranny.  If  a  savage,  before  he  entered 
into  society,  had  been  told  —  "  Your  neighbour,  by 
this  means,  may  become  owner  of  a  hundred  deer; 
but  if  your  brother,  or  your  son,  or  yourself,  having 


p 
d 


ESSAYS.  211 

no  if«er  of  your  own,  and  being  hungry,  should  kill 
oni^  an  infamous  death  must  be  the  consequence," 
he  would  probably  have  preferred  his  liberty,  and 
his  ccmmoa  right  of  killing  any  deer,  to  all  the  ad 
vantages  of  society  that  might  be  proposed  to  him. 

Ti»at  it  is  better  a  hundred  guilty  persons  should 
escape,  than  that  one  innocent  person  should  suffer,  is  a 
maxim  that  has  been  long  and  generally  approved; 
never,  that  1  know  of,  controverted.  Even  the 
sanguinary  author  of  the  Thoughts  agrees  to  it,  ad 

\  ding  well,  "that  the  very  thought  of  injured  in  no 
sence,  and  much  more  that  of  suffering  innocence, 

fr  must  awaken  all  our  tenderest  and  most  compas- 
•ionate  feel'ngs,  and  at  the  same  time  raise  our  high 
ast  indignation  against  the  instruments  of  it.  But," 
he  adds,  "  there  is  no  danger  of  either,  from  a  strict 
ndherance  to  the  laws." — Really! — is  it  then  impos 
sible  to  mako  an  unjust  law;  and  if  the  law  itself  be 
unjust,  may  it  not  be  the  very  "  instrument"  which 
ought  "  to  raise  the  author's  and  every  body's  high 
est  indignation  !"  I  see  in  the  last  newspapers  from 
London,  that  a  woman  is  capitally  convicted  at  the 
Old  Bailey,  for  privately  stealing  out  of  a  shop  some 
gauze,  value  fourteen  shillings  and  three  pence.  Is 
there  any  proportion  between  the  injury  done  by  a 
theft,  value  fourteen  shillings  and  three  pence,  and 
the  punishment  of  a  human  creature,  by  death,  on  a 
gibbet  ?  Might  not  that  woman,  by  her  labour,  have 
made  the  k'eparation  ordained  by  God  in  paying  four 
fold  ?  Is  not  all  punishrretit  inflicted  beyond  the  merit 
of  the  offence,  so  much  punishment  of  innocence  ?  In 
this  light,  how  v*st  is  the  annual  quantity,  of  not 
only  injured  but  suffering  innocence,  in  almost  al 
the  civilized  states  of  Europe, ! 


Barbary,  who  whenever  he  bought  a  new  Christian 
riave,  ordered  him  immediately  to  be  hung  up  by  tne 
legs,  and  to  receive  a  hundred  blows  of  a  cudgel  on 
the  soles  of  his  feel,  that  the  severe  sense  of  the  pun 
ishment,  and  fear  of  incurring  it  thereafter,  might 


212  ESSAYS 

prevent  the  faults  that  should  merit  it.  Our  author 
himself  would  hardly  approve  entirety  of  this  Turk's 
conduct  in  the  government  of  slaves  ;  and  yet  he  ap 
pears  to  recommend  something  like  it  for  the  govern 
ment  of  English  subjects,  when  he  applauds  the  reply 
of  Judge  Burnet  to  the  convict  horse-btealer;  who, 
being  asked  what  he  had  to  say  why  judgment  ol 
death  should  not  pass  against  him,  and  answering, 
that  it  was  hard  to  hang  a  man  for  only  stealing  a 
horse,  was  told  by  the  judge,  "  Man,  thou  art  not  to 
be  hanged  only  for  stealing  a  horse,  but  that  horses 
may  not.  be  stolen."  The  man's  answer,  if  candidly 
examined,  will,  I  imagine,  appear  reasonable,  as 
being  founded  on  the  eternal  principles  of  justice  and 
equity,  that  punishments  should  be  proportioned  to 
offences ;  and  the  judge's  reply  brutal  and  unreason 
able,  though  the  writer  "  wishes  all  judges  to  carry  it 
with  them  whenever  they  go  the  circuit,  and  to  bear 
it  in  their  minds,  as  containing  a  wise  reason  for  all 
the  penal  statutes  which  they  are  called  upon  to  put 
in  execution.  It  at  once  illustrates,'1  says  .^e,  "  the 
true  grounds  and  reasons  of  all  capital  punishments 
whatsoever,  namely,  that  every  man's  property,  as 
well  as  his  life,  may  be  held  sacred  and  inviolate." 
Is  there  then  no  difference  in  value  between  property 
and  life  ?  If  I  think  it  right  that  the  crime  of  murder 
should  be  punished  with  death,  not  only  as  an  equal 
punishment  of  the  crime,  but  to  prevent  other  mur 
ders,  does  it  follow  that  I  must  approve  of  inflicting 
the  same  punishment  for  a  little  invasion  on  my  pro 
perty  by  theft  ?  If  I  am  not  myself  so  barbarous,  so 
bloody-minded,  and  revengeful,  as  to  kill  a  fellow- 
creature  for  stealing  from  me  fourteen  shillings  and 
threepence,  how  can  I  approve  of  a  law  that  does  it .' 
Montesquieu,  who  was  himself  a  judge,  endeavours 
to  impress  other  maxims.  He  must  have  known 
what  humane  judges  feel  on  such  occasions,  and 
what  the  effects  of  those  feelings ;  and,  so  far  from 
thinking  that  severe  and  exco^iive  punishments  pre 
vent  crimes,  he  asserts,  as  t>(  lofetd  by  cur  French 
witer,  that 


ESSAYS.  213 

••  I/atrocite  des  loix  en  empeche  Texecution. 

"  Lorsque  la  peine  est  sans  mesure,  on  est  souvent 
oblige  de  lui  preferer  Timpunite. 

"  La  cause  de  tous  les  relachemens  vfent  de  1'im- 
punite  des  crimes,  et  non  de  la  moderation  des 
peines." 

It  is  said  by  those  who  know  Europe  generally, 
that  there  are  more  thefts  committed  and  punished 
annually  in  England,  than  in  all  the  other  nation 
put  together.  If  this  be  so,  there  must  be  a  cause  o 
causes  for  such  a  depravity  in  our  common  people. 
May  not  one  be  the  deficiency  of  justice  and  morali 
ty  in  our  national  government,  manifested  in  our 
oppressive  conduct  to  subjects,  and  unjust  wars  on 
cur  neighbours?  View  the  long-persisted  in,  unjust, 
monopolizing  treatment  of  Ireland,  at  length  acknow 
ledged  !  View  the  plundering  government  exercised 
by  our  merchants  in  the  Indies;  the  confiscating 
war  made  upon  the  American  colonies  ;  and,  to  say 
nothing  of  those  upon  France  and  Spain,  view  thi 
late  war  upon  Holland,  which  was  seen  by  impar 
tial  Europe  in  no  other  light  than  that  of  a  war  of 
rapine  and  pillage ;  the  hopes  of  an  immense  and 
easy  prey  being  its  only  apparent,  and  probably  ita 
true  and  real  motive  and  encouragement.  Justice  is 
ts  strictly  due  between  neighbour  nations,  as  between 
neighbour  citizens.  A  highwayman  is  as  much  a 
robber  when  he  plunders  in  a  gang,  as  when  single; 
and  a  nation  that  makes  an  unjust  war  is  only  a  great 
gang.  After  employing  your  people  in  robbing  the 
Dutch,  is  it  strange,  that,  being  put  out  of  that  em 
ploy  by  peace,  they  still  continue  robbing,  and  rob 
one  another  ?  Piraterie,  as  the  French  call  it,  or  pri 
vateering,  is  the  universal  bent  of  the  English  nation 
at  home  and  abroad,  wherever  settled.  No  less  than 
seren  {hundred  privateers  were,  it  is  said,  commis 
sioned  in  the  last  war !  These  were  fitted  out  by  mer 
chants,  to  piey  upon  other  merchants,  who  had 
never  done  them  any  injury.  Is  there  probably  any 
of  f  ^lose  privateering  merchants  of  London,  who  wero 
IT  ready  to  rob  the  merchants  of  Amsterdam,  that 
f  *ld  not  as  readily  plunder  another  London  mei- 


212  ESSAYS 

prevent  the  faults  that  should  merit  it.  Our  author 
himself  would  hardly  approve  entirety  of  this  Turk's 
conduct  in  the  government  of  slaves  ;  and  yet  he  ap 
pears  to  recommend  something  like  it  for  the  govern 
ment  of  English  subjects,  when  he  applauds  the  reply 
of  Judge  Burnet  to  the  convict  horse-btealer ;  who, 
being  asked  what  he  had  to  say  why  judgment  ol 
death  should  not  pass  against  him,  and  answering, 
that  it  was  hard  to  hang  a  man  for  only  stealing  a 
horse,  was  told  by  the  judge,  "  Man,  thou  art  not  to 
be  hanged  only  for  stealing  a  horse,  but  that  horses 
may  not.  be  stolen."  The  man's  answer,  if  candidly 
examined,  will,  I  imagine,  appear  reasonable,  as 
being  founded  on  the  eternal  principles  of  justice  and 
equity,  that  punishments  should  be  proportioned  to 
offences;  and  the  judge's  reply  brutal  and  unreason 
able,  though  the  writer  "  wishes  all  judges  to  carry  it 
with  them  whenever  they  go  the  circuit,  and  to  bear 
it  in  their  minds,  as  containing  a  wise  reason  for  all 
the  penal  statutes  which  they  are  called  upon  to  put 
in  execution.  It  at  once  illustrates,''  says  .^e,  "the 
true  grounds  and  reasons  of  all  capital  punishments 
whatsoever,  namely,  that  every  man's  property,  as 
well  as  his  life,  may  be  held  sacred  and  inviolate." 
Is  there  then  no  difference  in  value  between  property 
and  life  ?  If  I  think  it  right  that  the  crime  of  murder 
should  be  punished  with  death,  not  only  as  an  equal 
punishment  of  the  crime,  but  to  prevent  other  mur 
ders,  does  it  follow  that  I  must  approve  of  inflicting 
the  same  punishment  for  a  little  invasion  on  my  pro 
perty  by  theft  ?  If  I  am  not  myself  so  barbarous,  so 
bloody-minded,  and  revengeful,  as  to  kill  a  fellow- 
creature  for  stealing  from  me  fourteen  shillings  and 
threepence,  how  can  I  approve  of  a  law  that  does  it .' 
Montesquieu,  who  was  himself  a  judge,  endeavours 
to  impress  other  maxims.  He  must  have  known 
what  humane  judges  feel  on  such  occasions,  and 
what  the  effects  of  those  feelings ;  and,  so  far  from 
thinking  that  severe  and  excefmve  punishments  pre 
vent  crimes,  he  asserts,  as  <Motoa  by  cur  French 
wnter,  that 


ESSAYS.  213 

••  L'atrocite  des  loix  en  empeche  1'execution. 

"  Lorsque  la  peine  est  sans  mesure,  on  est  souvent 
oblige  de  lui  preferer  1'impunite. 

"  La  cause  de  tous  les  relachemens  v&nt  de  I'im- 
punite  des  crimes,  et  non  de  la  moderation  des 
peines." 

It  is  said  by  those  who  know  Europe  generally, 
that  there  are  more  thefts  committed  and  punished 
annually  in  England,  than  in  all  the  other  nation 
put  together.  If  this  be  so,  there  must  be  a  cause  o 
causes  for  such  a  depravity  in  our  common  people. 
May  not  one  be  the  deficiency  of  justice  and  morali 
ty  in  our  national  government,  manifested  in  our 
oppressive  conduct  to  subjects,  and  unjust  wars  on 
cur  neighbours?  View  the  long-persisted  in,  unjust, 
monopolizing  treatment  of  Ireland,  at  length  acknow 
ledged  !  View  the  plundering  government  exercised 
by  oar  merchants  in  the  Indies;  the  confiscating 
war  made  upon  the  American  colonies  ;  and,  to  say 
nothing  of  those  upon  France  and  Spain,  view  thi 
late  war  upon  Holland,  which  was  seen  by  impar 
tial  Europe  in  no  other  light  than  that  of  a  war  of 
rapine  and  pillage ;  the  hopes  of  an  immense  and 
easy  prey  being  its  only  apparent,  and  probably  its 
true  and  real  motive  and  encouragement.  Justice  is 
as  strictly  due  between  neighbour  nations,  as  between 
neighbour  citizens.  A  highwayman  is  as  much  a 
robber  when  he  plunders  in  a  gang,  as  when  single; 
and  a  nation  that  makes  an  unjust  war  is  only  a  great 
King.  After  employing  your  people  in  robbing  the 
Dutch,  is  it  strange,  that,  being  put  out  of  that  em 
ploy  by  peace,  they  still  continue  robbing,  and  rob 
one  another  ?  Piraterie^  as  the  French  call  it,  or  pri- 
rateering,  is  the  universal  bent  of  the  English  nation 
At  home  and  abroad,  wherever  settled.  No  less  than 
seren  {hundred  privateers  were,  it  is  said,  commis 
sioned  in  the  last  war !  These  were  fitted  out  by  mer 
chants,  to  piey  upon  other  merchants,  who  had 
never  dono  them  any  injury.  Is  there  probably  any 
of » ^oae  prfvateering  merchants  of  London,  who  wero 
IT  icady  to  rob  the  merchants  of  Amsterdam,  that 
f  lid  not  as  readily  plunder  another  London  met  • 


214  ESSAYS. 

chant,  of  the  next  street,  if  he  could  do  it  with  the 
same  impunity?  The  avidity,  the  alieni  appetens  is 
the  same ;  it  is  the  fear  alone  of  the  gallows  that 
makes  the  difference.  How  then  can  a  nation,  which 
among  the  honestest  of  its  people,  has  so  many 
thieves  by  inclination,  and  whose  government  en 
couraged  "and  commissioned  no  less  than  seven  hun 
dred  gangs  of  robbers ;  how  can  such  a  nation  have 
the  face  to  condemn  the  crime  in  individuals,  and 
Jbang  up  twenty  of  them  in  a  morning !  It  natural^ 
puts  one  in  mind  of  a  Newgate  anecdote.  One  of  th  | 
prisoners  complained,  that  in  the  night  somebody 
nad  taken  his  buckles  out  of  his  shoes.  "  What  the 
devil !"  says  another,  "  have  we  then  thieves  amongst 
us:*  It  must  not  be  suffered.  Let  us  search  out  the 
rogue,  and  pump  him  to  death." 

There  is,  however,  one  late  instance  of  an  English 
merchant  who  will  not  profit  by  such  ill-gotten  gain. 
He  was,  it  seems,  part-owner  of  a  ship,  which  the 
other  owners  thought  fit  to  employ  as  a  letter  of 
marque,  which  took  a  number  of  French  prizes. 
The  booty  being  shared,  he  has  now  an  agent  here 
inquiring,  by  an  advertisement  in  the  Gazette,  for 
those  who  have  suffered  the  loss,  in  order  to  make 
them,  as  far  as  in  him  lies,  restitution.  This  con 
scientious  man  is  a  quaker.  The  Scotch  presby- 
terians  were  formerly  as  tender;  for  there  is  still 
extant  an  ordinance  of  the  town-council  of  Edin 
burgh,  made  soon  after  the  Reformation,  "  forbidding 
the  purchase  of  prize  goods,  under  pain  of  losing  the 
freedom  of  the  burgh  for  ever,  with  other  punish 
ments  at  the  will  of  the  magistrate ;  the  practice  of 
making  prizes  being  contrary  to  good  conscience,  and 
he  rule  of  treating  Christian  brethren  as  we  woul  1 
le  treated ;  and  such  goods  are  not  to  be  sold  Ity 
mny  godly  man  within  this  burgh."  The  race  o? 
these  godly  men  in  Scotland  are  probably  extinct,  01 
their  principles  abandoned,  since,  as  far  as  that  na- 
t'on  had  a  ha^d  in  promoting  the  war  against  the 
colonies,  prizes  and  confiscations  are  believed  to  have 
l/*en  a  considerable  motive. 

It  has  been   fur  some  time  a  generally-received 
pp'uijdii,  trial  a  nmnary  rnau  is>  not  to  inquire  wneiiiuf 


ESSAYS.  215 

a  war  be  just  or  unjust ;  he  is  to  execute  his  orders 
All  princes,  who  are  disposed  to  become  tyrants, 
must  probably  approve  of  this  opinion,  and  be  wil 
ling  to  establish  it ;  but  is  it  not  a  dangerous  one  ? 
since,  on  that  principle,  if  the  tyrant  commands  his 
army  to  attack  and  destroy  not  only  an  unoffending 
neighbour  nation,  but  even  his  own  subjects,  the  ar 
my  is  bound  to  obey.  A  negro  slave,  in  our  colonies, 
being  commanded  by  his  master  to  rob  or  murder  a 
neighbour  or  do  any  other  immoral  act  may  refuse j 
and  the  magistrate  will  protect  him  in  his  refusal. 
The  slavery  then  of  a  soldier  is  worse  than  that  of  a 
negro !  A  conscientious  officer,  if  not  restrained  by 
the  apprehension  of  its  being  imputed  to  another 
cause,  may  indeed  resign,  rather  than  be  employed 
in  an  unjust  war;  but  the  private  men  are  slaves  for 
life:  and  they  are,  perhaps,  incapable  of  judging  for 
themselves.  We  can  only  lament  their  fate,  and  still 
more  that  of  a  sailor,  who  is  often  dragged  by  force 
from  his  honest  occupation,  and  compelled  to  imbrue 
his  hands  in  perhaps  innocent  blood.  But,  methinks, 
it. well  behoves  merchants  (men  more  enlightened  by 
their  education,  and  perfectly  free  from  any  such  force 
or  obligation}  to  consider  well  of  the  justice  of  a  war, 
before  they  voluntarily  engage  a  gang  of  ruffians  to 
attack  their  fellow-merchants  of  a  neighbouring  na 
tion,  to  plunder  them  of  their  property,  and  perhaps^ 
ruin  them  and  their  families,  if  they  yield  it ;  or  to 
wound,  maim, -and  murder  them,  if  they  endeavour 
to  defend  it.  Yet  these  things  are  done  by  Christian 
merchants,  whether  a  war  be  just  or  unjust;  and  it 
can  hardly  be  just  on  both  sides.  They  are  done  by  4 
English  and  American  merchants,  who,  nevertheless 
complain  of  private  theft,  and  hang  by  dozens  tho 
thieves  they  have  taught  by  their  own  example. 

It  is  high  time,  for  the  sake  of  humanity,  that  a 
«tap  were  put  to  this  enormity.  The  United  States 
of  America,  though  belter  situated  than  any  Euro- 
lopean  nation  to  make  profit  by  privateeiing  (most 
ftflhe  trade  with  Europe  with  the  West  Indies,  pass 
ing  before  their  doors)  are,  as  far  as  in  them  lies,  en 
deavouring  to  abolish  the  practice,  by  offering  in  all 
Uivir  tieaties  with  other  powers,  an  article,  engag- 


218  ESSAYS. 

ing  solemnly,  that,  in  case  of  future  war,  no  privateet 
shall  be  commissioned  on  either  side  ;  and  that  un 
armed  merchant-ships,  on  both  sides,  shall  pursue 
their  voyages  unmolested.*  This  will  be  a  happy 
improvement  of  the  law  of  nations.  The  humane 
and  the  just  cannot  but  wish  general  success  to  the 
proposition. 

With  unchangeable  esteem  and  affection, 

1  am,  my  dear  friend,  "  •  , 

Ever  your's 


*  This  offer  having  been  accepted  by  the  'ate  King  of  Prussia,  • 
treaty  of  amity  and  commerce  was  concluded  between  that  monarch 
and  the  United  States,  containing  the  following  humane  and  philan 
thropic  article  ,  in  the  formation  of  which  Dr.  Franklin,  as  one  of  the 
American  plenipotentiaries,  was  principally  concerned*  viz. 

ART.  XXriI.  If  war  should  arise  between  the  two  contracting 
parties,  the  merchants  of  either  country,  then  residing  in  th«  other, 
•hall  be  allowed  to  remain  nine  months  to  collect  their  debts  and  set 
tle  their  affairs,  and  may  depart  freely,  carrying  off  all  their  effect* 
without  molestation  or  hindrance  ;  and  all  women  and  children, 
scholars  of  every  faculty,  cultivators  of  the  earth,  artizans,  manufac 
turers,  and  fisherman  unarmed,  and  inhabiting  unfortified  towns,  vil 
lages,  and  places,  and,  in  general,  all  others  whose  occupations  ar« 
for  the  common  subsistence  and  benefit  of  mankind,  shall  be  allowed 
to  continue  their  respective  employments,  and  shall  not  be  molested 
in  their  persons,  nor  ehail  their  houses  cr  goods  be  burnt,  or  other 
wise  destroyed,  nor  their  fields  wasted  by  the  armed  force  of  the  ene 
my  into  whose  power,  by  the  events  of  war,  they  may  happen  to  fall  j 
but  if  any  thing  is  necessary  to  be  taken  from  them  'or  the  use  of  such 
•rmed  force,  the  same  shall  be  paid  for  at  a  reasonable  price.  And 
•  11  merchant  and  trading  vessels  employed  in  exchanging  the  product! 
of  different  place* ,  and  thereby  rendering  the  necessaries,  convenien 
ces,  and  comforts  of  human  life  more  easy  to  be  obtained,  and  more 
general,  shall  be  allowed  to  paw  free  and  unmolested  :  and  neither  ef 
the  contracting  powers  shall  grant  or  issue  any  commission  to  any 
private  armed  vessels,  empowering  them  to  take  or  destroy  Mtoh 
x&diog  vessels,  or  interrupt  such  commerce. 


ESSAYS.  217 

i.'    .-;:->**- 

REMARKS  CONCERNING  THE  SAVAGES 
OF  NORTH  AMERICA. 

SAVAGES  we  call  them  because  their  manners  differ 
from  ours,  which  we  think  the  perfection  .of  civility  ; 
hey  think  the  same  of  theirs. 

Perhaps  if  we  could  examine  the  manners  cl 
different  nations  with  impartiality,  we  should  find 
no  people  so  rude  as  to  be  without  any  rules  of  po 
Jiteness ;  no'r  any  so  polite  as  not  to  have  some  re- 
•uains  of  rudeness. 

The  Indian  men  when  young,  are  hunters  and 
varriors ;  when  old,  counsellors ;  for  al!  their  go- 
rernment  is  by  the  council  and  advice  of  the  sages  ; 
there  is  no  force,  there  are  no  prisons,  no  officers,  to 
compel  obedience,  or  inflict  punishment.  Hence 
they  generally  study  oratpry ;  the  best  speaker  hav 
ing  the  most  influence.  The  Indian  women  till  the 
ground,  dress  the  food,  nurse  and  bring  up  the  chil 
dren,  and  preserve  and  hand  down  to  posterity  the 
memory  of  public  transactions.  These  employments 
of  men  ana  ."women  are  accounted  natural  and  ho 
nourable.  Having  few  artificial  wants,  they^  have 
abundance  of  leisure  for  improvement  in  conversa 
tion.  Our  laborious  manner  of  life,  compared  with 
theirs,  they  esteem  slavish  and  base  ;  and  the  learn 
ing  on  which  we  value  ourselves,  they  regard  as  fri 
volous  and  useless.  An  instance  of  this  occurred  at 
the  treaty  of  Lancaster,  in  Pennsylvania,  anno  1744, 
between  the  government  of  Virginia  and  the  Six  Na- 
ions.  After  the  principal  business  was  settled,  the 
commissioners  from  Virginia  acquainted  the  Indiam 
by  a  speech,  that  there  was  at  Williamtburgh  a  col 
lege,  with  a  fund,  for  educating  Indian  youth  ;  and  if 
the  chiefs  of  the  Six  Nations  would  send  down  half  a 
dozen  of  their  sons  to  that  college,  the  government 
would  take  care  they  should  be  well  provided  for, 
and  instructed  in  ail  the  learning  of  the  whites  people. 
It  is  one  of  the  Indian  rules  of  politeness  not  to  an 
swer  a  public  proposition  the  same  day  that  it  is 


21d  ESSAVS. 

made :  they  think  it  would  be  treating  it  as  a  light 
matter,  and  that  they  show  it  respect  by  taking  tima 
to  consider  it,  as  of  a  matter  important.  They  there* 
fore  deferred  their  answer  till  the  day  following:  when 
their  speaker  began  by  expressing  their  deep  sense  ot 
the  kindness  of  the  Virginia  government,  in  making 
them  that  offer ;  "  for  we  know,"  says  he,  "  that  yofc 
highly  esteem  the  kind  of  learning  taught  in  thosO 
colleges/and  that  the  maintenance  of  our  young  men 
while  with  you  would  be  very  expensive  to  you.  W 
are  convinced,  therefore,  that  you  mean  to  do  ui 
good  by  your  proposal ;  and  we  thank  you  heartily 
But  you  who  are  wise  must  know,  that  different  na 
tions  have  different  conceptions  of  things ;  and  you 
will  therefore  not  take  it  amiss,  if  our  ideas  of  this 
kind  of  education  happen  not  to  be  the  same  with 
3'ours.  We  have  had  some  experience  of  it ;  several 
of  our  young  people  were  formerly  brought  up  at  the 
colleges  of  the  northern  provinces;  they  were  in- 
ptructed  in  all  your  sciences ;  but  when  they  came 
b^ck  to  us,  they  were  bad  runners ;  ignorant  of  every 
means  of  (living  in  the  woods;  unable  to  bear  eithei 
cold  or  hunger;  knew  neither  how  to  build  a  cabin, 
take  a  deer,  or  kill  an  enemy ;  spoke  our  language 
imperfectly;  were  therefore  neither  fit  for  hunters, 
warriors,  or  counsellors :  they  were  totally  good  foj 
nothing.  We  are  however  not  the  less  obliged  by 
your  kind  oflfer,  though  we  decline  accepting  of  it , 
and  to  show  our  grateful  sense  of  it  if  the  gentlemen 
of  Virginia  will  send  us  a  dozen  of  their  sons,  we 
will  take  great  care  of  their  education,  instruct  them 
in  all  we  know,  and  make  men  of  them. 

Having  frequent  occasions  to  hold  public  councils 
Ihey  have  acquired  great  order  and  decency  in  con 
•hicting  them.  The  old  men  sit  in  the  foremost 
tanks,  the  v/arriors  in  the  next,  and  the  women  am? 
children  in  the  hindmost.  The  business  of  the  wo 
men  is  to  take  notice  of  what  passes,  imprint  it  in 
their  memories,  for  they  have  no  writing,  and  ccm- 
munioate  it  to  the  children.  They  are  the  records  of 
the  council,  and  they  preserve  traditions  of  the  sti 
pulations  in  treaties  a  hundred  years  back  ;  which, 
when  we  compare  with  our  writing,  we  always  find 


H»AYS.  S19 

exact.  He  that  would  speak,  rises.  The  rest  ob 
serve  a  profound  silence.  When  he  has  finished, 
and  sits  down,  they  leave  him  five  or  six  minutes  to 
recollect,  that  if  he  has  omitted  any  thing  he  intended 
to  say  or  has  any  thing  to  add,  he  may  rise  again  and 
deliver  it.  To  interrupt  another,  even  in  common  con 
versation,  is  reckoned  highly  indecent.  How  different 
this  is  from  the  conduct  of  a  polite  British  House  of 
Commons,  where  scarce  a  day  passes  without  some  con 
fision,  that  makes  the  speaker' .oarse  in  calling  tc 
erder;  and  how  different  from  the  mode  of  conver 
sation,  in  many  polite  companies  of  Europe,  where 
if  you  do  not  deliver  your  sentences  with  great  rapi 
dity,  you  are  cut  off  in  the  middle  of  it  by  the  impa 
tient  loquacity  of  those  you  converse  with,  and  never 
luffered  to  finish  it ! 

The  politeness  of  these  savages  in  conversation  is 
Indeed  carried  to  excess ;  since  it  does  not  permit 
them  to  contradict  or  deny  the  truth  of  what  is  as- 
ferted  in  their  presence.  By  this  means  they,  in 
deed,  avoid  disputes  ;  but  then  it  becomes  difficult  to 
know  their  minds,  or  what  impression  you  make 
upon  them.  The  missionaries,  who  have  attempted 
to  convert  them  to  Christianity,  all  complain  of  thie 
as  one  of  the  great  difficulties  of  their  mission.  The 
Indians  hear  with  patience  the  truths  of  the  gospel 
explained  to  them,  and  give  their  usual  tr\ens  of 
assent  and  approbation :  you  would  think  they  were 
convinced.  No  such  matter — it  is  mere  civility. 

A  Swedish  minister  having  assembled  the  chiefs 
of  the  Susqueliannah  Indians,  made  a  sermon  to 
them,  acquainting  them  with  the  principal  historical 
facts  on  which  our  religion  is  founded  :  such  as  the 
fell  of  our  first  parents  by  eating  an  apple ;  the  com- 
4ig  of  Christ  to  repair  the  mischief;  his  miracles  and 
Bufferings,  &c. — When  he  had  finished,  an  Indian 
orator  stood  up  to  thank  him.  "  What  you  have  told 
us,"  says  he,  **  is  all  very  good.  It  is  indeed  bad  to 
eat  apples.  It  is  better  to  make  them  all  into  cider. 
We  are  much  obliged  to  your  kindness  in  coming  so 
tar  to  tell  us  those  things  which  you  have  heard  frcir. 
10 


220  ESS  At  S. 

your  mothers.     In   return,   1  will  tell  you  some  ol 
those  which  we  have  heard  from  ours. 

"  In  the  beginning,  our  fathers  had  only  the  flesh 
of  animals  to  subsist  on  ;  and  if  their  hunting  was 
unsuccessful,  they  were  starving.  Two  of  our  young 
hunters  having  killed  a  deer,  made  a  fire  in  the  wood 3 
to  broil  some  parts  of  it.  When  they  were  about  to 
satisfy  their  hunger,  they  beheld  a  beautiful  young 
woman  descend  from  the  clouds,  and  seat  herself  on 
«  that  hill  which  you  see  yonder  among  the  blue  moun 
tains.  They  said  to  each  other,  it  is  a  spirit  that 
perhaps  has  smelt  our  broiled  venison,  and  wishes  to 
at  of  it ;  let  us  offer  some  to  her.  They  presented 
her  with  the  tongue :  she  was  pleased  with  the  taste 
of  it,  and  said,  *  Your  kindness  shall  be  rewarded. — 
Come  to  this  place  after  thirteen  moons,  and  you 
shall  find  something  that  will  be  of  great  benefit  in 
nourishing  you  and  your  children  to  the  latest  gene 
rations.  They  did  so,  and  to  their  surprise,  found 
plants  they  had  never  seen  before  ;  but  which,  from 
that  ancient  time,  have  been  constantly  cultivated 
among  us,  to  our  great  advantage.  Where  her  right 
hand  had  touched  the  ground,  they  found  maize ; 
where  her  left  hand  touched  it,  they  found  kidney- 
beans;  and  where  her  backside  had  sat  on  it,  they 
found  tobacco."  The  good  missionary,  disgusted 
with  thi«  idle  tale,  said,  "  What  I  delivered  to  you 
were  sacred  truths ;  but  what  you  tell  me  is  mere 
fable,  fiction  and  falsehood."  The  Indian  offended, 
jt  replied,  "  My  brother,  it  seems  your  friends  have  not 
1  done  you  justice  in  your  education ;  they  havej  not 
well  instructed  you  in  the  rules  of  common  civility. 
You  saw  that  we,  who  understand  and  practise  those 
mles,  believed  all  your  stories,  why  do  you  refuse  to 
Relieve  ours  ?" 

When  any  of  them  come  into  our  towns,  our  peo 
ple  are  apt  to  crowd  round  them,  gaze  upon  them, 
and  incommode  them  where  they  desire  to  be  private  i 
this  they  esteem  great  rudeness,  and  the  effect  of  the  , 
want  of  instruction  in  the  rules  of  civility  and  good 
manners.  "  We  have,"  say  they,  "  as  much  curi 
osity  as  you,  and  when  you  come  into  cur  towns,  we 
whh  for  opportunities  of  looking  at  you  ,  but  for  this 


ESSAYS.  221 


ing  one  another's  villages 
has  likewise  its  rules.  It  is  reckoned  uncivil  in  tra 
velling  strangers  to  enter  a  village  abruptly,  with 
out  giving  notice  of  their  approach.  Therefore,  as 
soon  as  they  arrive  within  hearing,  they  stop  and 
halloo,  remaining  there  till  invited  to  enter.  Two 
old  men  usually  come  out  to  them  and  lead  them  in. 
There  is  in  every  village  a  vacant  dwelling,  called  tlia 
strangers  house.  Here  they  are  placed,  while  tl.« 
old  men  go  round  from  hut  to  hut,  acquainting  tlto 
inhabitants  that  strangers  are  arrived,  who  are  pro 
bably  hungry  and  weary,  and  every  one  sends  them 
what  he  can  spare  of  victuals,  and  skins  to  repose 
on.  When  the  strangers  are  refreshed,  pipes  and 
tobacco  are  brought :  and  then,  but  not  before,  con 
versation  begins,  with  inquiries  who  they  are,  whither 
bound,  what  news,  &c.  and  it  usually  ends  with  o£ 
fers  of  service,  if  the  strangers  have  occasion  for 
guides,  or  any  necessaries  for  continuing  their  jour 
ney  ;  and  nothing  is  exacted  for  the  entertainment. 

The  same  hospitality,  esteemt-d  among  them  as  a 
principal  virtue,  is  practised  by  private  persons;  of 
which  Conrad  Weiser,  our  interpreter,  gave  me  the 
following  instance.  He  had  been  naturalized  among 
the  Six  Nations,  and  spoke  wen  the  Mohuck  lan 
guage.  In  going  through  the  Indian  country,  to  car- 
Sa  message  from  our  governor  to  the  council  ai 
londaga,  he  called  at  the  habitation  of  Canasse- 
tego,  an  old  acquaintance,  who  embraced  him,  spread 
furs  for  him  to  sit  on,  placed  before  him  some  boiled 
beans  and  venison,  and  mixed  some  rum  and  watei 
for  his  drink.  When  he  was  well  refreshed,  and  had 
lit  his  pipe,  Canassetego  began  to  converse  with  hime 
asked  him  how  he  nad  fared  the  many  years  since 
they  had  seen  each  other,  whence  he  then  came,  what 
occasioned  the  journey,  &c.  Conrad  answered  ail 
his  questions ;  and  when  the  discourse  began  to  flag, 
the  Indian,  to  continue  it,  said,  "  Conrad,  you  hava 
lived  long  among  the  white  people,  and  know  some 
thing  of  their  customs;  I  have  been  sometimes  al 
Albany,  and  have  observed,  that  once  in  seven  dayi 


222  ESSAYS. 

they  shut  up  their  shops,  and  assemble  all  in  the 
great  house;  tell  me  what  it  is  for?  What  do  they 
do  there  ?"  "»*  They  meet  there,"  says  Conrad,  "  to 
hear  and  learn  good  things?"  "  I  do  not  doubt,"  says 
the  Indian,  "  that  they  tell  you  so,  they  have  told 
me  the  same :  but  I  doubt  the  truth  of  what  they 
say,  and  I  will  tell  you  my  reasons.  I  went  lately  to 
Albany,  to  sell  my  skins  and  buy  blankets,  knives, 
powder,  rum,  &c.  You  know  1  used  generally  to 
deal  with  Hans  Hanson  ;  but  I  was  a  little  inclined 
.his  time  to  try  some  other  merchants.  However,  V 
called  first  upon  Hans,  and  askeu  him  what  he  would 
give  for  beaver.  He  said  he  could  not  give  more  than 
four  shillings  a  pound  :  but,  says  he,  I  cannot  talk 
on  business  now ;  this  is  the  day  when  we  meet  to* 
gether  to  learn  good  things,  and  I  am  going  to  meet 
ing.  So  I  thought  to  myself,  since  I  cannot  do  any 
business  to-da}',  I  may  as  well  go  to  the  meeting  top., 
and  I  went  with  him.  There  stood  up  a  man  in 
black,  and  began  to  talk  to  the  people  very  angrily. 
I  did  not  understand  what  he  said :  but,  perceiving 
that  he  looked  much  at  me,  and  at  Hanson,  I  imagin 
ed  he  was  angry  at  seeing  me  there  ;  so  I  went  out, 
Bat  down  ueai  the  house,  struck  fire  and  lit  my  pipe, 
waiting  till  the  meeting  should  break  up.  I  though! 
too,  that  the  man  had  mentioned  something  of  beaver; 
I  suspected  it  might  be  the  subject  of  their  meeting. 
So,  when  they  came  out,  I  accosted  my  merchant, 
*  Well,  Hans,*  says  I,  *  I  hope  you  have  agreed  to 
give  more  than  four  shillings  a  pound.'  *  JNo,'  says 
he,  *  1  canont  give  so  much  ;  I  cannot  give  more  than 
three  shillings  and  sixpence.'  1  then  spoke  to  seve 
ral  other  dealers,  but  they  all  sung  the  same  song, 
three  and  six  pence,  three  and  six  pence.  Thit 
made  it  clear  to  me  that  my  suspicion  was  right;  and 
that,  whatever  they  pretended  of  meeting  to  learn 
good  things,  the  real  purpose  was  to  consult  Ijow  to 
f-heat  Indians  in  the  price  of  beaver.  Consider  but  a 

^ttle,  Conrad,  and  you  must  be  of  my  opinion.  If 
they  meet  so  often  to  learn  good  things  they  would 
certainly  have  learned  some  before  this  time.  But 
they  are  still  ignorant.  You  know  our  practice.  If 

a  white  man,  in  travelling  through  our  country,  eu» 


ESSATS.  223 

ters  one  of  our  cabins,  we  all  treat  him  as  I  do  you  ; 
we  dry  him  if  he  is  wet,  we  warm  him  if  he  is  cold, 
and  give  him  meat  and  drink,  that  he  may  allay  hrs 
thirst  and  hunger ;  and  we  spread  soft  furs  for  him 
to  rest  and  sleep  on  :  we  demand  nothing  in  return.* 
But  if  I  go  into  a  white  man's  house  at  Albany,  and 
ask  for  victuals  and  drink,  they  say,  Where  is  your 
money  ?  and  if  I  have  none,  they  say,  Get  out,  you 
Indian  dog.  You  see  that  they  have  not  learned  thos 
little  good  things  that  we  need  no  meetings  to  be  in 
structed  in,  because  our  mothers  taught  them  u 
when  we  were  children ;  and  therefore  it  is  impos 
sible  their  meetings  should  be,  as  they  say,  for  "any 
such  purpose,  or  have  any  such  effect ;  they  are  only 
to  contrive  the  cheating  of  Indians  in  the  price  of 
beaver." 


*  It  U  remarkabla  that,  in  all  ages  and  countries,  hospitality  hat 
Man  allowed  u  the  virtue  of  those,  wham  the  civilized  were  ple*seu 
to  call  barbarians ;  the  Greeks  celebrated  the  Sc/thians  for  it;  tn« 
Baraoens  possessed  it  eminently  ;  and  it  h  to  this  day  the  reigning 
virtu*  of  the  wild  Arabs.  St.  Paul,  too,  in  the  relation  of  his 
Voyage  and  ship  wreck,  on  the  iiland  of  Melita,  says,  "  The  bar- 
barous  people  showed  us  no  iittle  kinduesi ;  for  they  kindled  a  fire, 
and  received  us  every  one,  because  of  the  present  rain,  and  becaus* 
of  the  cold."  This  note  is  taken  Vom  a  small  collection  of  Fumsv- 
tta's  papers,  printed  for  Dilly 


04  ESSATS. 


TO  MR.  DUBOURG. 

CONCERNING    THE    DISSENTIONS   BETWEEN   i\<.f.A>D 
AND    AMERICA. 

London,  October  2,  1770. 

I  SEE,  with  pleasure,  that  we  think  pretty  much 
alike  on  the  subjects  of  English  A  merica.  We  of  th% 
colonies  have  never  insisted  that  we  ought  to  be  ex 
empt  from  contributing  to  the  common  expenses  ne 
cessaiy  to  support  the  prosperity  of  the  empire.  Wi 
only  assert,  that  having  parliaments  of  our  own,  and 
not  having  representatives  in  that  cf  Great  Britain,  oui 
parliaments  are  the  only  judges  of  what  we  can  and 
what  we  ought  to  contribute  in  this  case ;  and  that 
the  English  parliament  has  no  right  to  take  our  mo 
ney  without  our  consent.  In  fact,  the  British  ernpiro 
is  *not  a  single  staie ;  it  comprehends  many ;  and 
though  the  parliament  of  Great  Britain  has  arrogated 
to  itself  the  power  of  taxing  the  colonies,  it  has  no 
more  right  to  do  so,  then  it  has  to  tax  Hanover.  We 
have  the  same  king,  but  not  the  same  legislatures. 

The  dispute  between  the  "wo  countries  has  already 
lost  England  many  millions  sterling,  which  it  has  lost 
in  its  commerce,"  and  America  has  in  this  respect 
t>een  a  proportionable  galier.  This  commerce  con 
sisted  principally  of  superfluities;  objects  of  luxury 
and  fashion,  which  we  can  well  do  without ;  and  the 
resolution  we  have  formed  of  importing  no  more  till 
our  grievances  are  redressed,  has  enabled  many  of 
our  infant  manufacturers  to  take  root ;  and  it  will 
not  be  easy  to  make  our  people  abandon  them  in  fu 
ture,  even  should  a  connexion  more  cordial  than 
ever  succeed  the  pissent  troubles. — I  have,  indeed, 
no  doubt,  that  the  parliament  of  England  will  finally 
abandon  its  present  pretensions,  ana  leave  us  to  the 
peaceable  enjoyment  of  our  rights  and  privileges. 

B.  FRANKLIN. 


ESSAYS  225 


A  Comparison  of  the  Conduct  of  the  Ancient 

and  of  the  Antifederalists  in  the  United  States  of 
America. 

A  ZEALOUS  advocate  for  the  proposed  Federal  Co^- 
clitution  in  a  certain  public  assembly  said,  that  "  tha 
repugnance  of  great  part  of  mankind  to  good  govern 
mem  was  such,  that  he  believed  that  if  an-  angel  front 
heaven  was  to  bring  down  a  constitution  formed 
there  for  our  use,  it  would  nevertheless  meet  with 
violent  opposition." — He  was  reproved'  for  the  sup 
posed  extravagance  of  the  sentiment ;  and  he  did  not 
justify  it. — Probably  it  might  not  have  immediately 
occurred  to  him,  that  the  experiment  had  been 
tried,  and  that  the  event  was  recorded  in  the  most 
faithful  of  all  histories,  the  Holy  Bible ;  otherwise  he 
might  as  it  seems  to  me,  have  supported  his  opinion 
by  that  unexceptionable  authority. 

The  Supreme  Being  had  been  pleased  to  nourish 
tip  a  single  family,  by  continued  acts  of  his- attentive 
providence,  until  it  became  a  great  people  :  and  hav 
ing  rescued  them  from  bondage  by  many  miracles 
performed  by  his  servant  Moses,  he  personally  de 
livered  to  that  chosen  servant,  in  presence  of  the 
whole  nation,  a  constitution  and  code  of  laws  for 
their  observance ;  accompanied  and  sanctioned  with 
promises  of  great  rewards,  and  threats  of  severe 
punishments,  as  the  consequence  of  their  obedience 
or  disobedience. 

This  constitution,  though  the  Deity  himself  was  to 
be  at  its  head  (and  it  is  therefore  called  by  political 
writers  a  theocracy)  could  not  be  carried  into  execu- 
ion  but  by  means  of  his  ministers:  Aaron  and  h« 
tons  were  commissioned  to  be,  with  Moses,  the  first 
established  ministry  of  the  new  government. 

One  would"  have  thought,  that  the  appointment  of 
men,  who  had  distinguished  themselves  in  procuring 
the  liberty  of  their  nation,  and  had  hazarded  their 
lives  in  openlv  opposing  the  will  of  a  powerful  mo 
narch  who  would  have  retained  that  nation  in  sla 
very,  migLt  have  been  an  appointment  acceptable  to 


226  ESSAYS. 

a  grateful  people  ,  and  that  a  constitution  framed  for 
them  by  the  Deity  himself,  might  on  lhat  account 
have  been  secure  of  an  universal  welcome  reception. 
Yet  there  were,  in  every  one  of  the  thirteen  triheg, 
some  discontented,  restless  spirits,  who  were  continu 
ally  exciting  them  to  reject  the  proposed  new  govern 
ment,  and  this  from  various  motives. 

Many  still  retained  an  affection  for  Egypt,  the  land 
of  their  nativity ;  and  these,  whenever  they  felt  any 
nconvenience  or  hardship,  though  the  natural  and 
unavoidable  effect  of  their  change  of  situation,  ex 
claimed  against  their  leaders  as  the  authors  of  their 
trouble ;  and  were  not  only  for  returning  into  Egypt, 
but  for  stoning  their  deliverers.*  Those  inclined  to 
idolatry  were  displeased  that  their  golden  calf  was 
destroyed.  Many  of  the  chiefs  thought  the  new  con 
stitution  might  be  injurious  to  their  particular  inter 
ests,  that  the  profitable  places  would  be  engrossed  by 
the  families  and  friends  of  Jffoses  and  Aaron,  and 
others  equally  well  born  excluded.f — In  Josephus, 
and  the  Talmud,  we  learn  some  particulars,  not  so 
fully  narrated  in  the  Scripture.  We  are  there  told, 
"  that  Korah  was  ambitious  of  tha  priesthood ;  and 
offended  that  it  was  conferred  on  Aaron ;  and  this, 
as  he  said,  by  the  authority  of  Moses  only,  without 
the  consent  of  the  people.  He  accused  Moses  of  hav 
ing*  by  various  artificers,  fraudulently  obtained  the 
government,  and  deprived  the  people  of  their  liber 
ties;  and  of  conspiring  with  Aaron  to  perpetuate  the 
tyranny  in  their  family.  Thus,  though  Koran's  real 
motive  was  the  supplanting  of  Aaront  he  persuaded 
the  people  that  he  meant  only  the  public  good  :  and 
they,  moved  by  his  insinuations,  began  to  cry  out, — 
Let  us  maintain  the  common  liberty  of  our  respec- 
We  tribes ;  we  have  freed  ourselves  from  the  slavery 


*  Numbers,  chap.  xir. 

f  Numbers,  chap.  xri.  ver.  3.  "  And  they  fathered  themselves) 
coge'htr  against  Moses  and  against  Aaron,  and  said  unto  them.  Ye 
take  too  rauoh  upon  you,  teeing  all  the  congregation  are  holy, 
every  one  of  them,— wherefore  then  lift  ye  up  yourseires  fcbuvt 
the  congregation  1" 


ESSAYS,  227 

imposed  upon  us  by  the  Egyptians,  and  shall  we 
suffer  ourselves  to  be  made  slaves  by  Moses?  If  we 
must  have  a  master,  it  were  better  to  return  to  Pha 
raoh,  who  at  least  fed  us  with  bread  and  onions,  than 
lo  serve  this  new  tyrant,  who  by  his  operations  has 
brought  us  into  danger  of  famine.'  Then  they  called 
in  question  the  reality  of  his  conferences  with  God  ; 
and  objected  to  the  privacy  of  the  meeting,  and  the 
preventing  any  of  the  people  from  being  present  at 
the  colloquies,  or  even  approaching  the  place,  as 
grounds  of  great  suspicion.  They  accused  Moses  al- 
so  of  peculation ;  as  embezzling  part  of  the  golden 
spoons  and  the  si'ver  chargers,  that  the  princes  had 
offered  al  the  dedication  of  the  altar,*  and  the  offer 
ings  of  gold  by  the  common  people,f  as  well  as  most 
of  the  poll-tax  ;{.  and  Aaron  they  accused  of  pocket 
ing  mucli  of  the  gold  of  which  he  pretended  to  have 
made  a  molten  calf.  Besides  peculation,  they  charg 
ed  Moses  with  ambition ;  to  gratify  which  passion, 
he  had,  they  sajd,  deceived  the  people,  by  promising 
to  bring  them  to  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey : 
instead  of  doing  wnich,  he  had  brought  them  from 
such  a  land ;  and  that  he  thought  light  of  all  this 
mischief,  provided  he  could  make  himself  an  abso 
lute  prmce.JI  That  to  support  the  new  digir.ty  with 
splendour  in  his  family,  the  partial  poll-tax  already 
levied  and  given  to  AaronTf  was  to  be  followed  by  a  ge 
neral  one,**  which  would  probably  be  augmented  from 
ume  to  time,  if  he  were  suffered  to  go  on  promulgat 
ing  new  laws  on  pretence  of  new  occasional  revela- 
4ons  of  the  Divine  will,  till  their  whole  fortunes  were 
ievoured  by  that  aristocracy." 


*  Numbers,  cbap.  vii. 

f  Exodus  chap.  XXXY.  ver.  22. 

|   Numbers,  chap.  iii.  and   Exodus,  chap.  *«. 

|!  Number*,  chap.  xri.  yer.  13.  "  Is  U  a  small  thing  that  tho« 
hut  brought  ui  up  out  of  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  to  kill 
M  in  this  viliUiatM,  except  that  thou  mike  th/self  altogether  • 
prince  ov«r  us  !" 

M  Numbers,  chap.  iii.  **  E*odus,  ch»p.  *i*. 


529  ESSAYS. 

Moses  denied  the  charge  of  peculation ;  and  his 
accusers  were  destitute  of  proofs  to  support  it ; 
though  facts,  if  real,  are  in  their  nature  capable  of 
proof.  "  J  have  not,"  said  he  (with  holy  confidence 
in  the  presence  of  God,)  "  1  have  not  taken  from  this 
people  the  value  of  an  ass,  nor  done  them  any  other 
injury."  But  his  enemies  had  made  the  charge,  and 
with  some  success  among  the  populace  ;  for  no  kind 
of  accusation  is  so  readily  made,  or  easily  believed, 
by  knaves,  as  the  accusation  of  knavery. 

In  fine,  no  less  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  the 
principal  men,  "  famous  in  the  congregation,  men  of 
renown, "f  heading  and  exciting  the  mob,  worked 
them  up  to  such  a  pitch  of  frenzy,  that  they  called 
out,  Stone  *em,  stone  'em,  and  thereby  sepure  our 
liberties;  and  let  us  chose  other  captains,  that  they 
may  lead  us  back  into  PJgypt,  in  case  we  do  not  suc 
ceed  in  reducing  the  Canaanites. 

On  the  whole,  it  appears  that  the  Israelites  were  a 
people  jealous  of  their  new-acquired  liberty,  which 
jealousy  was  in  itself  no  fault :  but  tlfat,  when  they 
suffered  it  to  be  worked  upon  by  artful  men,  pretend 
ing  public  good,  with  nothing  really  in  view  but 
jmntie  interest,  they  were  led  to  oppose  the  establish 
rnent  of  the  new  constitution,  whereby  they  brought 
upon  themselves  much  inconvenience  and  misfortune 
It  farther  appears  from  the  same  inestimable  history, 
that  when,  after  many  ages,  the  constitution  had  be 
come  old  and  much  abused,  and  an  amendment  of 
k  was  proposed,  the  populace,  as  they  had  accused 
Moses  of  the  ambition  of  making  himself  a  prince, 
and  cried  out,  Stone  him,  stone  him  ;  so,  excited  by 
their  high  priests  and  scribes,  they  exclaimed 
against  the  Messiah,  that  he  aimed  at  becoming 
king" of  the  Jews,  and  cried,  Crucify  him,  crucify 
Iiim.  From  all  which  we  may  gather,  that  populai 
opposition  to  a  public  measure  is  no  proof  of  its  im 
propriety,  even  though  the  opposition  be  excited  and 
headed  by  men  of  distinction. 


Wumheri,  chap. 


ESSAYS.  229 

To  conclude,  1  beg  I  may  not  be  understood  to  infer, 
(hat  our  general  covention  was  divinely  inspired 
when  it  formed  the  new  federal  constitution,  merely 
fcecause  that  constitution  lias  been  unreasonably  and 
vehemently  opposed  ;  yet  I  must  own,  I  have  go  much 
faith  in  the  general  government  of  the  world  by  Pro 
vidence,  tha*  I  can  hardly  conceive  a  transaction  of 
such  momentous  importance  to  the  welfare  of  mil 
lions  now  existing,  and  to  exist  in  the  posterity  of  a 
great  nation,  should  be  suffered  to  pass  without  being 
n  some  degree  influenced,  guided,  and  governed  by 
that  omnipotent,  omnipresent,  and  beneScent  Ruler, 
in  whom  all  inferior  spirits  live,  and  move,  and  have 
their  being. 


NAUTICAL  AFFAIRS. 


THOUGH  Britain  bestows  more  attention  to  trade 
then  any  other  nation,  and  though  it  be  the  general 
opinion,  that  the  safety  of  their  state  depends  upon 
her  navy  alone  ;  yet  it  seems  not  a  little  extraordinary, 
that  most  of  the  great  improvements  in  ship-building 
have  originated  abroad.  The  best  sailing  vessels  in 
the  royal  navy  have  in  general  been  French  prizes. 
This,  though  it  may  admit  of  exceptions,  cannot  be 
ttpon  the  \vnole  disputed. 

Nor  is  Britain  entirely  inattentive  to  naval  archi- 
ecture  ;  though  it  is  no  where  scientifically  taught, 
and  those  who  devise  improvements  have  seldom  an 
opportunity  of  bringing  them  into  practice.  What  3 
pity  it  is,  that  no  contrivance  should  be  adopted,  fof 
concentrating  the  knowledge  that  different  individu 
als  attain  in  this  art,  into  one  common  focus,  if  lha 
expression  may  be  admitted.  Our  endeavours  shall 
not  be  wanting,  to  collect  together,  in  the  best  way 
we  can,  the  scattered  hints  that  shall  occur  under  thig 
head,  not  doubting  but  die  public  will  receive  with 


230  ESSAYS. 

favour  this  humble  attempt  to  waken  the  attention  to 
a  subject  of  such  great  national  importance. 

Dr.  Franklin  among  the  other  inquiries  that  had 
engaged  his  attention,  during  a  long  life  spent  in  the 
uninterrupted  pursuit  of  useful  improvements,  did 
not  let  this  escape  his  notice  ;  and  many  useful  hints, 
tending  to  perfect  the  art  of  navigation,  and  to  melio 
rate  the  condition  of  seafaring  people,  occur  in  hia 
work.  In  France,  the  art  of  constructing  ships  haa 
long  been  a  favourite  study,  and  many  improvements 
in  that  branch  have  originated  with  them.  Among 
the  last  of  the  Frenchmen,  who  have  made  any  con 
siderable  improvement  in  this  respect,  is  M.  Le  Roy, 
who  has  constructed  a  vessel  well  adapted  to  sail  in 
rivers,  where  the  depth  of  water  is  inconsiderable, 
nnd  that  yet  was  capable  of  being  navigated  at  sea 
with  great  ease.  This  he  effected  in  a  great  measure 
by  the  particular  mode  of  rigging,  which  gave  the 
mariners  much  greater  power  over  the  vessel  than 
they  could  have  when  of  the  usual  construction. 

I  do  not  hear  that  this  improvement  has  in  any 
case  been  adopted  in  Britain.  But  the  advantages 
that  would  result  from  having  a  vessel  of  small 
draught  of  water  to  sail  with  the  same  steadiness, 
and  to  lie  equally  near  the  wind,  as  one  may  do  that 
is  sharper  built,  are  so  obvious,  that  many  persons 
have  been  desirous  of  falling  upon  some  way  to  ef 
fect  it.  About  London,  this  has  been  attempted  by 
meansjof  lee  boards  (a  contrivance  now  so  generally 
known  as  not  to  require  to  be  here  particularly  des 
cribed)  and  not  without  effect.  But  these  are  sub 
ject  to  certain  inconveniences,  that  render  the  use  ol 
them  in  many  cases  ineligible. 

Others  have  attempted  to  effect  the  purpose  by 
building  vessels  with  more  than  one  keel ;  and  thii 
contrivance,  when  adopted  upon  proper  principles, 
promises  to  be  attended  with  the  happiest  effects.— 
But  hitherto  that  seems  to  have  been  scarcely  advert 
ed  to.  Time  will  be  necessary  to  eradicate  common 
notions  of  very  old  standing,  before  this  can  be  ef- 
factually  done. 

Mr.  W.  Brodie,  snip-master  in  Leith,  has  lately 
adopted  a  contrivance  for  this  purpose,  that  seems  to 


ESSAYS.  231 

6e  at  the  same  time  very  simple  and  extremely  effi 
cacious.  Necessity,  in  this  case,  as  in  many  others, 
was  the  mother  of  invention.  He  had  a  small,  flat, 
ill-built  boat,  which  was  so  ill  constructed  as  scarce 
ly  to  admit  of  carrying  a  bit  of  sail  on  any  occasion, 
and  which  was  at  the  same  time  so  heavy  to  be  row 
ed,  that  he  found  great  difficulty  in  using  it  for  his 
ordinary  occasions.  In  reflecting  on  the  means  tha* 
might  be  adopted  for  giving  this  useless  cable  such  * 
hold  of  the  water  as  to  admit  of  his  employing  a  sai 
when  he  found  it  necessary,  it  readily  occurred  tha 
a  greater  depth  of  keel  would  have  this  tendency. 
But  a  greater  depth  of  keel,  though  it  would  have 
been  useful  for  this  purpose,  he  easily  foresaw,  would 
make  his  boat  be  extremely  inconvenient  on  many 
other  occasions.  To  effect  both  purposes,  he  thought 
of  adopting  a  moveable  keel,  which  would  admit  ol 
behl£  let  down  or  taken  up  at  pleasure.  This  idea 
he  immediately  carried  into  effect,  by  fixing  a  bar  of 
irori  of  the  depth  he  wanted,  along  each  side  of  the 
keel,  moving  upon  hinges  that  admitted  of  being 
moved  in  one  direction,  but  which  could  not  be  bent 
back  in  the  opposite  direction.  Thus,  by  means  of  a 
small  chain  fixed  to  each  end,  these  moveabie  keels 
could  be  easily  lifted  up  at  pleasure ;  so  that  when 
he  was  entering  into  a  harbour,  or  shoal  water,  he 
had  only  to  lift  up  his  keels,  and  the  boat  was  as 
capable  of  being  managed  there,  as  if  he  had  wunted 
them  entirely ;  and  when  he  went  out  to  sea,  where 
there  was  depth  enough,  by  letting  them  down,  the 
lee  keel  took  a  firm  hold  of  the  water,  (while  the  othei 
floated  loose)  and  gave  such  a  steadiness  to  all  its 
movements,  as  can  scarcely  be  conceived  by  those 
who  have  not  experienced  it. 

This  gentleman  one  day  carried  me  out  with  him 
in  his  boat  to  try  it.  We  made  two  experiments.  At 
first,  with  a  moderate  breeze,  when  the  moveable 
keels  were  kept  up,  the  boat  when  laid  as  near  the 
wind  as  it  could  go,  made  an  angle  with  the  wake  of 
about  thirty  degrees ;  but  when  the  keels  were  let 
down,  the  same  angle  did  not  exceed  five  or  six  de 
grees;  being  nearly  parallel  with  the  course. 


232  ESSAYS. 

At  another  time,  the  wind  was  right  a-head,  a  biisk 
breeze.  When  we  began  to  beat  up  against  it,  a 
trading  sloop  was  very  near  us,  steering  the  same 
course  with  us.  This  sloop  went  through  the  water 
a  good  deal  faster  than  we  could  :  but  in  the  course 
of  two  hours  beating  to  windward,  we  found  that 
the  sloop  was  left  behind  two  feet  in  three  ;  though  it 
is  certain,  that  if  our  false  keels  had  not  been  let 
down,  we  could  scarcely,  in  that  situation,  have  ad 
vanced  one  foot  for  her  three. 

Itis  unnecessary  to  point  out  to  seafaring  men  the  be 
nefits  that  may  be  derived  from  this  contrivance  in 
certain  circumstances,  as  these  will  be  very  obvious 
to  them. 


NORTH-WEST    PASSAGE. 

Notwithstanding  the  many  fruitless  attempts  that 
have  been  made  to  discover  a  north-west  passage 
into  the  South  Seas,  it  would  seern  that  this  import 
ant  geographical  question  is  not  yet  fully  decided ; 
for  at  a  meeting  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences,  at  Paris, 
held  on  the  13th  of  November  last,  M.  Bauche,  first 
geographer  to  the  king,  read  a  curious  memoir  con 
cerning  the  north-west  passage.  M.  de  Mendoza, 
an  intelligent  captain  of  a  vessel  in  the  service  of 
Spain,  charged  with  the  care  of  former  establishments 
favourable  to  the  marine,  has  made  a  careful  exami 
nation  of  the  archives  of  several  departments :  there 
he  has  found  the  relation  of  a  voyage  made  in  the 
year  1.598  by  Lorenzo  Herrero  de  Maldonada.  There 
it  appears,  that  at  the  entry  into  David's  Straits, 
north  lat.  60  degrees,  and  28  of  longitude,  counting 
from  the  first  meridian,  he  turned  to  the  west,  leaving 
Hudson's  Bay  on  the  south,  and  Baffin's  Bay  on  the 
north.  Arrived  at  lat.  65  and  297,  he  went  towarda 
the  north  by  the  Straits  of  Labrador,  till  he  reached 
76  and  273  ;  and  finding  himself  in  the  Icy  Sea,  ha 
turned  south-west  to  lat.  60  and  235,  where  he  found 
a  strait,  which  separates  Asia  from  America,  by 
which  he  entered  into  the  South  Sea,  which  he  called 
the  Straits  of  Anian.  This  passage  ought  to  be,  an 


ESSAYS.  233 

rcrdingto  M.  Bauche,  between  William's  Sound  ana 
Mount  St.  Elias.  The  Russians  and  Captain  Cook 
have  not  observed  it,  because  it  is  very  narro\v.  But 
it  is  to  be  wished,  that  this  important  discovery 
should  be  verified,  which  has  been  overlooked  for 
two  centuries,  in  spite  of  the  attempts  which  have 
been  made  on  these  coasts.  M.  Bauche  calls  this 
passage  the  Straits  of  Ferrer. 


POSITIONS  TO  BE  EXAMINED. 

1.  ALL  food,  or  subsistence  from  mankind,  arises 
from  the  earth  or  waters. 

2.  Necessaries  of  life  that  are  not  foods,   and  all 
other  conveniences,  have  their  value  estimated  by 
the  proportion  of  food  consumed  while  we  are  em 
ployed  in  procuring  them. 

3.  A  small  people  with  a  large  territory,  may  sub 
sist  on  the  productions  of  nature,  with  no  other  la 
bour  than  that  of  gathering  the  vegetables  and  catch 
ing  the  animals. 

4.  A  large  people  with  a  small  territory,  find  these 
insufficient;    and,  to  subsist,  must  labour  the  earth, 
to  make  it  produce  greater  quantities  of  vegetable 
food,  suitable  to  the  nourishment  of  men,  and  of  the 
inimals  they  intend  to  eat. 

5.  From  this  labour  arises  a  great  increase  of  ve 
getable  and  animal  food,  and  of  materials  for  clothing; 
as  flax,  wool,  silks,  &c.     The  superfluity  of  these  H 
wealth.     With  this  wealth  we  pay  for  the  labour  em 
ployed  in  building  our  houses,  cities,  &c.  which  a/a 
therefore  only  subsistence  thus  metamorphosed. 

6.  Manufactures    are    only    another    shape   into 
which  so  much  provisisons  and  subsistence  are  turn 
ed,  as  were  in  value  equal  to  the  manufacture  pro 
duced.     This  appears  from  hence,  that  the  manufac 
turer  does  not,   in  fact,  obtain  from  the  employer. 
for  Uis  labour,  more  than  a  me>°  subsistence,  incline 


234  ESSAYS. 

ing  raiment,  fuel,  and  shelter ;  all  which  derive  then 
value  from  the  provisions  consumed  in  procuring 
Ihem. 

7.  The  produce  of  the  earth,  thus  converted  into 
manufactures,  may  be  more  easily  carried  into  distant 
markets,  than  before  such  conversion. 

3.  Fair  commerce  is  where  equal  values  are  ex» 
changed^for  equal,  tike  expense  of  transport  included. 
Thus,  if  it  costs  A  in  England,  as  much  labour  and 
charge  to  raise  a  bushel  of  wheat,  as  it  costs  B  in 
France  to  produce  four  gallons  of  wine,  then  are  fou 
gallons  of  wine  the  fair  exchange  for  a  bushel  of 
wheat,  A  and  B  meeting  at  half  distance  with  their 
commodities  to  make  the  exchange.  The  advantage 
of  this  fair  commerce  is,  that  each  party  increases  the 
number  of  his  enjoyments,  having,  instead  of  wheat 
a'ione,  or  wine  alone,  the  use  of  both  wheat  and 
wine. 

9.  Where  the  labour  and  expense  of  producing 
both  commodities  are  known  to  both  parties,  bargains 
will  generally  be  fair  and  equal.     Where  they  are 
known  to  one  party  only,  bargains  will  often  be  un 
equal,  knowledge  taking  its  advantage  of  ignorance. 

10.  Thus  he  that  carries  a  thousand  bushels  of 
wheat  abroad  to  sell,   may  not  probably  obtain  so 
great  a  profit  thereon,  as  if  he  had  first  turned  the 
wheat   into  manufactures,   by  subsisting  therewith 
the  workmen  while  producing  those  manufactures, 
since  there  are  many  expediting    and   facilitating 
methods  of   working,    not    generally  known,   and 

'.  strangers  to  the  manufactures,  though  they  know 
pretty  well  the  expense  of  raising  wheat,  are  unac 
quainted  with  those  short  methods  of  working;  and 
hence,  being  apt  to  suppose  more  labour  ernployej 
n  the  manufacture  than  there  really  is,  are  nfore 
easily  imposed  on  in  their  value,  and  induced  to 
allow  more  for  them  than  they  are  honestly  worth. 

11.  Thus  the  advantage  of  having  manufactures 
in  a  country  does  not  consist,  as  is  commonly  sup- 
posed,   in  their  highly  advancing  the  value  of  rough 
materials,  of  which  they  are  formed  ;  since,  though 
nxpennyworth  of  flax  may  be  worth  twenty  shillings 


ESSAYS  235 

A^-SfS.  .  _^J       '  — 

when  worked  into  lace,  yet  the  very  cause  of  its 
being  worth  twenty  shillings  is  that,  besides  the 
6ax,  it  has  cost  nineteen  shillings  and  sixpence  in 
subsistence,  to  the  manufacturer.  But  the  advan 
tage  of  manufactures,  J0,  ihat,  under  their  shape, 
provisions  may  be  more  easily  carried  to  a  foreign 
market ;  and  by  their  means  our  traders  may  more 
easily  cheat  strangers.  Few,  where  it  is  not  made, 
are  judges  of  the  value  of  lace.  The  importer  may 
demand  forty,  and  perhaps  get  thirty  shillings  for 
.  that  which  cost  him  but  twenty. 

12.  Finally,  there  seems  to  be  but  three  ways  for 
a  nation  to  acquire  wealth.  The  first  is  by  war,  as 
the  Romans  did,  in  plundering  their  conquered 
neighbours;  this  is  robbery. — The  second  by  com 
merce,  which  is  generally  cheating. — The  third  by 
agriculture,  the  only  honest  way,  wherein  a  nan  re 
ceives  a  real  increase  of  the  seed  thrown  into  the 
ground  in  a  k  >»d  of  continued  miracle,  wrought  by 
ihe  hand  of  f  vid  in  his  favour,  as  a  reward  for  hii 
*  V*  *xd  his  virtuous  industry. 

B.  FRANKLIN. 


238  ESSAYS. 


PRELIMINARY    ADDRESS   TO  THE    PENNSYLVANIA    AL 
MANAC,    ENTITULED,   "POOR    RICHARD'S    AL 
MANAC,    FOR   THE   YEAR    1758." 

WRITTEN  BY  DR.  FRANKLIN. 

F  HAVE  heard,  that  nothing  gives  an  author  so  great 
pleasure  as  to  find  his  works  respectfully  quoted  by 
other  learned  authors.  This  pleasure  I  have  seldom  en 
joyed,;  for  though  I  have  been,  if  I  may  say  it  without 
vanity,  an  eminent  author  (of  Almanacs)  annually 
now  a  fuM  quarter  of  a  century,  my  brother  authors 
in  the  same  way  (for  what  reason  I  know  not)  have 
ever  been  very  sparing  in  their  applauses ;  and  -no 
other  author  has  taken  the  least  notice  of  me  :  so  that, 
did  not  my  writings  produce  me  some  solid  pudding, 
the  great  deficiency  of  praise  would  have  quite  dis 
couraged  me. 

I  concluded,  at  length,  that  the  people  were  the 
best  judges  of  my  merit,  for  they  buy  my  works ; 
and,  besides,  in  my  rambles,  where  I  am  not  person 
ally  known,  I  have  frequently  heard  one  or  other  of 
my  adages  repeated,  with  "  as  poor  Richard  says," 
at  the  end  on't.  This  gave  me  some  satisfaction,  as 
it  showed  aot  only  that  my  instructions  were  regard 
ed,  but  discovered  likewise  some  respect  for  my  au 
thority  ;  and  I  own,  that  to  encourage  the  practice  of 
remembering  and  repeating  those  wise  sentences,  1 
have  sometimes  quoted  myself  with  great  gravity. 

Judge  then  how  much  I  have  been  gratified  by  an 
Incident  which  I  am  going  to  relate  to  you.  I  stop 
ped  my  horse  lately  where  a  great  number  of  people 
were  collected  at  an  auction  of  merchants7  goods. 
The  hour  of  sale  not  being  come,  they  were  convers 
ing  on  the  badness  of  the  times ;  and  one  of  the  com 
pany  called  to  a  plain,  clean,  old  man,  with  white 
locks,  <*  Pray,  father  Abraham,  what  think  ye  of  the 
times?  Won't  these  heavy  taxes  quite  ruin  the 


ESSAYS.  237 

country  ?  How  shall  we  be  ever  able  to  pay  them  ? 
What  would  you  advise  us  to  ?"  Father  Abraham 
stood  up,  and  replied, — "  If  you'd  have  my  advice, 
I'll  give  it  to  you  in  short ;  «  for  a  word  to  the  wise  is 
enough  ;  and  many  words  wont  fill  a  bushel,'  as  poor 
Richard  says."  They  joined  in  desiring  him  to  speak 
nis  mind ;  and,  gathering  round  him,  he  proceeded  as 
follows : 

"  Friends  (says  he)  and  neighbours,  the  taxes  are 
Indeed  very  heavy ;  and  if  those  laid  on  by  the  go 
vernmerit  were  the  only  ones  we  had  to  pay,  wa 
might  :nore  easily  discharge  them  ;  but  we  have  ma 
il}  others,  and  much  more  grievous  to  some  of  us. 
VVe  are  taxed  twice  as  much  by  our  idleness,  three 
times  as  much  by  our  pride,  and  four  times  as  much 
by  our  folly ;  and  from  these  taxes  the  commission 
ers  cannot  ease  or  deliver  us,  by  allowing  an  abate 
ment  However,  let  us  hearken  to  good  advice,  and 
something  may  be  done  for  us ;  '  God  helps  them 
that  help  themselves,'  as  poor  Richard  says  in  his 
Almanac. 

"  It  would  be  thought  a  hard  government  that 
should  tax  its  people  one-tenth  part  of  their  time,  to 
be  employed  in  its  service ;  but  idleness  taxes  many 
of  us  much  more,  if  we  reckon  afl'that  is  spent  in  ab 
solute  sloth,  or  doing  of  nothing,  with  that  which  is 
spent  in  idle  employments,  or  amusements  that 
amount  to  nothing.  Sloth,  by  bringing  on  diseases, 
absolutely  shortens  life.  *  Sloth,  like  rust,  consumes 
faster  than  labour  wears,  while  the  key  often  used  is 
always  bright,'  as  poor  Richard  says.  *  But  dost 
thou  love  life?  then  do  not  squander  time,  for  that's 
tine  stuff  life  is  made  of,'  as  poor  Richard  says.  How 
tfmch  more  than  is  necessary  do  we  spend  in  sleep ! 
forgetting,  that  *  the  sleeping  fox  catches  no  poultry, 
and  that  there  will  be  sleeping  enough  in  the  grave,' 
es  poor  Richard  says.  *  If  time  be  of  all  things  the 
most  precious,  wasting  time  must  be  (as  poor  Rich* 
ard  says)  the  greatest  prodigality ;'  since,  as  he  else 
where  tells  us,  *  Lost  time  is  never  found  again  ;  and 
what  we  call  time  enough,  always  proves  little 
enough.'  Let  us  then  up  and  be  doing,  and  doing  to 
Uie  purpose :  so  by  diligence  shall  we  do  more  with 


833  ESSAVR 

ess  perplexity.  *  Sloth  makes  all  tnmgs  difficult, 
but  industry  all  easy,1  as  poor  Richard  says ;  and, 
« he  that  riseth  late  must  trot  all  day,  and  shall  scarce 
overtake  his  business  at  night;  while  laziness  tra 
vels  so  slowly,  -that  poverty  soon  overtakes  him,'  as 
we  read  in  poor  Richard;  who  adds,  *  Drive  thy 
business,  let  not  that  drive  thee ;'  and, 

*  Early  to  bed,  and  early  to  rise, 
Makes  a  man  healthy,  wealthy,  and  wise.* 

**  So  what  signifies  wishing  and  hoping  for  better  " 
limes?    We  make  these  times  better  if  we  bestir  our-  j 
selves.    *  Industry  needs  not  wish,7  as  poor  Richard 
says ;  *  He  that  lives  upon  hope  will  die  fasting.' 

•  There  are  no  gains  without  pains ;  then  help  hands, 
for  I  have  no  lands ;  or  if  I  have  they  are  smartly 
taxed ;'   and,  (as  poor  Richard  likewise  observes) 

•  He  that  hath  a  trade  hath  an  estate,  and  he  that 
hath  a  calHng  hath  an  office  of  profit  and  honour ;' 
but  then  the  trade  must  be  worked  at,  and  the  calling 
well  followed,  or  neither  the  estate  nor  the  office  will 
enable  us  to  pay  our  taxes.     If  we  are  industrious 
we  shall  never  starve;   for,  as  poor  Richard  says, 
•At  the  working-man's  house  hunger  looks  in,  bul 
dares  not  enter.'    Nor  will  the  bailiff  or  the  consta 
ble  enter;  for,  *  Industry  pavs  debts,  but  despair  in- 
creaseth  them,'  says  poor  Richard.    What  though 
you  have  found  no  tieasure,  nor  has  any  lich  relation 
left  you  a  legacy  ?    *  Diligence  is  the  mother  of  good 
luck,'  as  poor  Richard  says;    and  'God  gives  all 
things  to  industry :  then  plough  deep  while  sluggards 
sleep,  and  you  will  have  corn  to  soil  and  to  keep,'  says 
poor  Dick.     Work  while  it  is  called  to-day;  for  you 
iinow  not  how  much  you  may  be  hindered  to-morrow ; 
which  makes  poor  Richard  say,  *  One  to-day  is  worth 
two  to-morrows ;    and,   farther,  *  Have  you  some 
what  to  do  to-morrow,  do  it  to-day.'    *  If  you  were 
a  servant,  would  you  not  be  ashamed  that  a  good  mas 
ter  should  catch  you  idle?  Are  you  then  your  own  mas 
ter,  be  ashamed  to  catch  yourself  idle,'  as  poor  Dick 
says.    When  there  is  so  much  to  be  done  for  yourself^ 
your  family,  and  your  gracious  king,  be  up  by  peep  o' 


ESSAYS.  239 

day ;  *  Let  not  the  sun  look  down,  and  say,  Inglorious 
here  he  lies !'  Handle  your  tools  without  mittens ;  it> 
member,  that  *  the  cat  in  gloves  catches  no  mice,'  ai 
poor  Richard  says.  It  is  true,  there  is  much  to  be  be 
done,  and  perhaps  you  are  weak-handed  ;  but  stick  to 
it  steadily,  and  you  will  see  great  effects ;  for,  *  con 
tinual  dropping  wears  away  stones,  and  by  dili 
gence  and  patience  the  mouse  ate  into  the  cable  ;  and 
light  strokes  fell  great  oaks,'  as  poor  Riclmrd  says  in 
his  Almanac,  the  year  I  cannot  just  now  remember 

"  Methinks  I  hear  some  of  you  say,  '  must  a  mat 
afford  himself  no  leisure  ?' — I  will  tell  thee,  my  friend 
what  poor  Richard  says :  '  Employ  thy  time  well,  it 
thou  meanest  to  gain  leisure ;  and  since  thou  art  not 
sure  of  a  minute,  throw  not  away  an  hour.'  Leisure 
is  time  for  doing  something  useful :  this  leisure  the 
diligent  man  will  obtain,  but  the  lazy  man  never ; 
so  ihat,  as  poor  Richard  says,  *  A  life  of  leisure  and 
a  life  of  laziness  arc  two  things.'  Do  you  imagine  that 
sloth  will  afford  you  more  comfort  than  labour  ?  No; 
for,  as  poor  Richard  says,  4  Troubles  spring  from 
idleness,  and  grievous  toils  from  needless  ease :  many 
without  labour  would  live  hy  their  own  wits  only ; 
but  they  break  for  want  of  stock.'  Whereas  indus 
try  gives  comfort,  and  plenty,  and  respect.  *  Fly 
pleasures,  and  they'll  follow  you  ;  the  diligent  sphv 
ner  has  a  large  shift ;  and,  now  I  have  a  sheep  and 
a  cow,  every  body  bids  me  good-morrow  ;'  all  which 
is  well  said  by  poor  Richard. 

"  But  with  our  industry,  we  must  likewise  be 
steady,  and  settled,  and  careful,  and  oversee  our  own 
affairs  with  our  own  eyes,  and  not  trust  too  much  to*, 
others ;  for,  as  poor  Richard  says,  & 

*  I  never  saw  an  oft-removed  tree, 

IVTor  yet  an  oft- removed  family, 

That  throre  so  well  as  one  that  settled  be.' 

"  And,  again, '  Three  removes  are  as  bad  as  a  fire, 
and  again,  *  Keep  thy  shop,  and  thy  shop  will  keep 
Uiee;'  and  again,  *  If  you  would  have  your  business 
done,  go  ;  if  not,  send.'  And  again, 


240  ESSAYS. 

1  He  that  by  the  plow  would  thrive 
Himself  must  either  hold  or  drive  ' 

And  again,  *  The  eye  of  the  master  will  Jo  more 
work  than  both  his  hands;'  and  again,  'Want  of 
care  does  us  more  damage  than  want  of  knowledge;* 
and  again,  4  Not  to  oversee  workmen  is  to  leave  them 
your  purse  open.'  Trusting  too  much  to  others  care 
s  the  ruin  of  many:  for,  as  the  Almanac  says,  *  la 
ne  affairs  of  the  world,  men  are  saved  not  by  faith 
bu^by  the  want  of  it ;'  but  a  man's  own  care  is  pro 
fitable ;  for,  saith  poor  Dick,  *  Learning  is  to  the  stu 
dious,  and  riches  to  the  careful,  as  well  as  power  t* 
to  the  bold,  and  heaven  to  the  virtuous.'  And,  far 
ther,  « If  you  would  have  a  faithful  servant,  and  on* 
that  you  lika,  serve  yourself.'  And  again,  he  advia- 
cth  to  circumspection  and  caro,  even  in  the  smalleat 
matters,  because  sometimes,  *  .A  little  neglect  may 
breetl  great  mischief;'  adding,  *  For  want  of  a  naU 
the  shoe  was  lost ;  for  want  of  a  shoe  the  horse  was 
tost ;  and  for  want  of  a  horse  the  rider  was  lost ;' 
being  overtaken  and  slain  by  the  enemy,  all  for  want 
of  care  about  a  horse-shoe  nail. 

"  So  much  for  industry,  my  friends,  and  attention 
to  one's  own  business ;  but  to  these  we  must  add 
frugality,  if  we  would  make  our  industry  more  cer* 
tainly  successful.  A  man  may,  if  he  knows  not  how 
to  save  as  he  gets,  *  keep  his  nose  all  his  life  to  the 
grindstone,  an'1,  die  not  worth  a  groat  at  last.'  *  A 
fat  kitchen  makes  a  lean  will,'  as  poor  Richard 
eays;  and, 


Many  estates  are  spent  In  the  getting ; 
Since  women  for  tea  forsook  spinning  and  knitting 
And  men  for  punch  forsook  hewing  and  splitting.' 

'*  *  If  you  would  be  wealthy,  (says  he,  in  anothet 
Almanac)  think  of  saving,  as  well  as  of  getting :  the 
Indies  have  not  made  Spain  rich,  because  her  ouU 
goes  are  gi  eater  than  her  incomes ' 


ESSAYS  241 

•  Away  than  with  your  expensive  follies,  and  yoo 
will  not  have  much  cause  to  complain  of  hard  times, 
heavy  taxes,  and  chargeable  fauces;  for,  as  poor 
Dick  says, 

**  Women  and  wine,  game  ana  aeceif, 
Make  the  wealth  small,  and  the  want  great.1 

M  And,  farther,  *  What  maintains  one  vice,  woul 
ring  up  two  children.*  You  may  think,  perhaps 
that  a  little  tea,  or  a  little  punch  now  and  then,  diet 
a  little  more  costly,  clothes  a  little  finer,  and  a  littk 
entertainment  now  and  then,  can  be  no  great  mattery 
hut  remember  what  poor  Richard  says,  *  Many  a  lit 
tle  makes  a  meikle  ;  '  and  farther,  *  Beware  of  littte 
expenses  ;  a  small  leak  will  sink  a  great  ship  ;'  and 
again,  «  Win  dainties  love,  shall  beggars  prove  ;'  and, 
moreover,  '  Fools  make  feasts,  and  wise  men  eal 
them.' 

'•  Here  you  are  all  got  together  at  this  sale  of  fine 
ries  and  nicknacks.  You  call  them  goods;  but  if 
you  do  not  take  care,  taey  will  prove  evils  to  some  of 
you.  You  expect  they  will  be  sold  cheap,  and  per 
haps  they  may  for  lew  than  they  cost ;  but  if  you 
have  no  occasion  for  them,  they  must  be  dear  to  you. 
Remember  what  poor  Richard  says,  '  Buy  what  thou 
hast  na  need  of,  and  ere  long  thou  shall  sell  thy  ne 
cessaries.'  And  again,  *  At  a  great  pennyworth  pause 
awhile.'  H*J  means,  that  perhaps  the  cheapness  is 
apparent  only,  or  not  real ;  or  the  bargain,  by  strait 
ening  thee  in  thy  business,  may  do  thee  more  harm 
than  good.  For  in  another  place  he  says,  *  Many 
have  been  ruined  by  buying  goud  pennyworths.' — 
Again,  as  poor  Richard  says,  *  It  is  foolish  to  lay  out 
money  in  a  purchase  of  repentance ;'  and  yet  this 
folly  is  practised  every  day  at  auctions,  for  want  ol 
minding  the  Almanac.  *  Wise  men  (as  poor  Dick  says) 
learn  by  others  harms,  fools  scarcely  by  their  own  | 
but  Felix  quam  fadunt  aliena  pericula  cautumS-- 
Many  a  one,  for  the  sake  of  finery  on  the  back,  have 
gone  with  a  hungry  belly,  and  half  starved  their  fa 
milies  :  *  Silk  and  satins,  scarlet  and  velvets,  (aj 
uoor  Richard  says)  put  out  the  kitchen  fire.1  These 


242  ESSAYS. 

are  not  the  necessaries  of  life ;  they  can  scarcely  be 
called  the  conveniences ;  and  yet  only  because  they 
look  pretty,  how  many  want  to  have  them  ?  The  ar 
tificial  wants  of  mankind  thus  become  more  numer 
ous  than  the  natural ;  and  as  poor  Dick  says,  *  For 
one  poor  person  there  are  a  hundred  indigent.'  By 
these^and  other  extravagances,  thegentee1  are  reduced 
to  poverty,  and  forced  to  borrow  of  those  whom  they 
formerly  despised,  but  who,  through  industry  and 
frugality,  have  maintained  their  standing ;  in  whic 
case,  it  appears  plainly,  *  A  ploughman  on  his  legs 
higher  than  a  gentleman  on  his  knees/  as  poor  Rich 
ard  says.  Perhaps  they  have  had  a  small  estate  left 
them,  which  they  knew  not  the  getting  of;  they  think, 
*  It  is  day,  and  will  never  be  night ;  that  a  little  to  be 
spent  out  of  so  much,  is  not  worth  minding; :  *  A  child 
and  a  fool  (as  poor  Richard  says)  imagine  twenty 
shillings  and  twenty  years  can  never  be  spent ;  but 
always  be  taking  out  of  the  meal-tub,  and  never  put 
ting  in,  soon  comes  to  the  bottom ;' then,  as  poor  Dick 
says,  *  When  the  well  is  dry  they  know  the  worth 
of  water.'  But  this  they  might  have  known  before, 
if  they  had  taken  his  advice :  '  If  you  would  know 
the  value  of  money,  go  and  try  to  borrow  some ;  for 
he  that  goes  a  borrowing  goes  a  sorrowing ;  and,  in 
deed,  so  does  he  that  lend  to  such  people,  when  he 
goes  to  get  it  in  again.'  Poor  Dick  farther  advises, 
and  says, 


1  Fonrf  pride  of  dress  is  sure  a  very  curse : 
Ere  fancy  you  consult,  consult  your  purse.* 


And  again,  « Pride  is  as  loud  a  beggar  as  Want,  anfl 
a  great  deal  more  saucy.'  When  you  have  bought 
one  fine  thing,  you  must  buy  ten  moi-e,  that  youi 
appearance  may  be  all  of  a  piece  j  but  poor  JDich 
says,  '  It  is  easier  to  suppress  the  first  desire,  than  to 
satisfy  all  that  follow  it.'  And  it  is  as  truly  folly  for 
the  poor  to  ape  the  rich,  as  the  frog  to  swell,  in  order 
to  equal  the  ox. 


ESSAYS.  243 

« Vessels  large  may  venture  more, 

But  little  boats  should  keep  near  shore.' 

*Tis,  however,  a  folly  soon  punished ;  for,  *  Pride 
that  dines  on  vanity,  sups  on  contempt,7  as  poof 
Richard  says.  And  in  another  place,  *  Pride  break> 
fasted  with  Plenty,  dined  wiih  Poverty  and  supped 
with  Infamy.'  And,  after  all,  of  what  use  is  this 
pride  of  appearance,  for  which  so  much  is  risked,  so 
much  is  suffered?  It  cannot  promote  health,  or  ease 
pain,  it  makes  no  increase  of  merit  in  the  person ;  iX 
nastensfcnisfortune. 

« What  is  a  butterfly?  at  beat,  * 

He's  but  a  caterpillar  drest ; 
The  gaudy  ibp's  his  picture  jusV 

ts  poor  Richard  says. 

"  But  what  madness  must  it  be  to  run  in  debt  for 
these  superfluities !  We  are  offered  by  the  terms  of 
this  sale  six  months'  credit ;  and  that  perhaps  has 
induced  some  of  us  to  attend  it,  because  we  cannot 
spare  the  ready  money,  and  hope  now  to  be  fine  with 
out  it  But,  ah !  think  what  you  do  when  you  run 
in  debt.  You  give  to  another  power  over  your  liber 
ty.  If  you  cannot  pay  at  the  time,  you  will  be 
ashamed  to  see  your  creditor:  you  will  be  in  fear 
when  you  speak  to  him ;  you  will  make  poor,  pitiful, 
sneaking  excuses,  and  by  degrees  come  to  lose  your 
veracity,  and  sink  into  base  downright  lying;  for,  as 
poor  Richard  says,  4  The  second  vice  is  lying;  the 
hrst  is  running  in  debt.'  And  again,  to  the  gama 
purpose,  *  Lying  rides  upon  debt's  oack ;'  whereas  a 
tee-bora  Englishman  ought  not  to  be  ashamed 
nor  afraid  to  speak  to  any  man  living — But 
poverty  often  deprives  a  man  of  all  spirit  and 
virtue  :  *  It  is  hard  for  an  empty  bag  to  stand  upright,* 
as  poor  Richard  tru/y  says.  What  would  you  think 
of  that  prince,  or  that  government,  who  would  issut 
an  edict,  forbidding  you  to  dress  like  a  gentleman  or 
rentlewoman,  on  pain  of  imprisonment  or  servitude  f 
Would  you  not  say,  that  you  were  free,  have  a  right 
to  dress  as  you  please,  and  that  such  an  edict  would 


244  ESSAYS. 

be  a  breach  of  your  privileges,  and  such  a  govern 
merit  tyrannical?  And  yet  you  are  about  to  put  your 
self  under  that  tyranny  when  you  run  in  debt  for  such 
dress  !  Your  creditor  has  authority,  at  his  pleasure, 
tc  deprive  you  of  your  liberty,  by  confining  you  in 
goal  for  life,  or  by  selling  you  for  a  servant,  if  you 
should  not  be  able  to  pay  him.  When  you  have  got 
your  bargain,  you  may,  perhaps,  think  little  of  pay 
ment  ;  but  4  Creditors  (poor  Richard  tells  us)  have 
better  memories  than  debtors ;'  and  in  another  placo 
he  says,  *  Creditors  are  a  superstitious  sect,  great 
observers  of  set  days  and  times.'  The  day  come* 
round  before  you  are  aware,  and  the  demand  is  made 
before  you  are  prepared  to  satisfy  it.  Or  if  you  bear 
your  debt  in  mind,  the  term  which  at  first  seemed  so 
long,  will  as  it  lessens,  appear  extremely  short.  Time 
will  seem  to  have  added  wings  to  his  heels  as  well  ay 
at  his  shoulders.  *  Those  have  a  short  Lent  (saiti 
poor  Richard)  who  owe  money  to  be  paid  at  Easter. 
Then  since,  as  he  says,  *  The  borrower  is  a  slave  tt 
the  lender,  and  the  debtor  to  the  creditor;1  disdain 
the  chain,  preserve  your  freedom,  and  maintain  youi 
independency :  be  industrious  and  free ;  be  frugal 
and  free.  At  present,  perhaps,  you  may  think  your 
selves  in  thriving  circumstances,  and  that  you  can 
bear  a  little  extravagance  without  injury ;  but 

*  For  age  and  want  save  while  you  may, 

No  morning  sun  lasts  a  whole  day.' 

> 

as  poor  Richard  says.  Gain  may  be  temporary  anr 
uncertain  ;  but  ever,  while  you  live,  expense  is  con- 
•taut  and  certain :  and  *  it  is  easier  to  build  twc 
diimneys,  than  to  keep  one  in  fuel,*  as  poor  Rich 
ard  says.  So  *  Rather  go  to  bed  supperless  than  fist 
m  debt.' 

*  Get  what  you  can,  and  what  you  get  hold, 

*Tis  the  stone  that  will  turn  all  your  lead  into  golJ  * 

as  poor  Richard  says.  And  when  you  have  got  tht 
philosopher's  stone,  sure  you  will  no  longer  complain 
of  bad  times,  or  the  difficulty  of  paying  taxes. 


ESSAYS.  243 

This  doctrine,  my  friends,  is  reason  and  wisdom* 
but,  after  all,  do  not  depend  too  much  upon  your  own 
industry  and  frugality,  and  prudence,  though  excel 
lent  things;  for  they  may  be  blasted,  without  the 
blessing  of  Heaven  :  and  therefore  ask  that  blessing 
humbly,  and  be  not  uncharitable  to  those  that  at  pre 
sent  seem  to  want  it,  but  comfort  and  help  them.  Re 
member  Job  suffered,  and  was  afterwards  pros 
perous. 

"  And  now,  to  conclude,  4  Experience  keeps  a  dear 
school ;  but  fools  will  learn  in  no  other,  and  scarce 
in  that ;  for  it  is  true,  we  may  give  advice,  but  we 
cannot  give  conduct,'  as  poor  Richard  says.  How 
ever,  remember  this,  *  They  that  will  not  be  coun 
selled,  cannot  be  helped,'  as  poor  Richard  says ;  and, 
further,  that  *  If  you  will  not  hear  Reason,  she  will 
surely  rap  your  knuckles.'  " 

Thus  the  old  gentleman  ended  his  harrangua 
The  people  heard  it,  and  approved  the  doctrine,  and 
immediately  practised  the  contrary,  just  as  if  it  had 
been  a  common  sermon ;  for  the  auction  opened, 
and  they  began  to  buy  extravagantly,  notwithstand 
ing  all  his  cautions,  and  their  own  fear  of  taxes.  I 
found  the  good  man  had  thoroughly  studied  my  Al 
manacs,  and  digested  all  I  had  dropped  on  those 
topics,  during  the  course  of  twenty-five  years.  The 
frequent  mention  he  made  of  me,  must  have  tired 
every  one  else ;  but  my  vanity  was  wonderfully  de 
lighted  with  it,  though  I  was  conscious  that  not  a 
tenth  part  of  the  wisdom  was  my  own,  which  he  as 
cribed  to  me,  but  rather  the  gleanings  that  I  had  made 
of  the  sense  of  all  ages  and  nations.  Howsver,  I  re 
solved  to  be  the  better  for  the  echo  of  it ;  and  though 
I  had  first  determined  to  buy  stuff  for  a  new  coat,  I 
went  away,  resolved  to  wear  my  old  one  a  little  Ion- 
let.  Reader,  if  thou  wilt  do  the  same,  thy  profit  wife 
be  as  great  as  mine. 

I  am,  as  ever,  thine  to  serve  thee, 

RICHARD  SAUNDERS. 


246  ESSAYS. 

THE 

INTERNAL  STATE  OF  AMERICA. 


Being  a  true  Description  of  the  Interest 
of  that  vast  Continent. 


THERE  is  a  tradition,  that  in  the  planting  of  New- 
England,  the  first  settlers  met  with  many  difficulties 
and  hardships  :  as  is  generally  the  case  when  a  civi 
lized  people  attempt  establishing  themselves  in  a 
wilderness  country.  Being  piously  disposed,  they 
sought  relief  from  Heaven,  by  laying  their  wants  and 
distresses  before  the  Lord,  in  frequent  set  days  of 
fasting  and  prayer.  Constant  meditation  and  dis 
course  on  these  subjects  kept  their  minds  gloomy  and 
discontented ;  and,  like  the  children  of  Israel,  there 
were  many  disposed  to  return  to  that  Egypt  which 
persecution  had  induced  them  to  abandon.  At  length, 
when  it  was  proposed  in  the  Assembly  to  proclaim 
another  fast,  a  farmer  of  plain  sense  rose  and  re 
marked,  that  the  inconvienences  they  suffered,  and 
concerning  which  they  had  so  often  wearied  Heaven 
with  their  complaints,  were  not  so  great  as  they  might 
have  expected,  and  were  diminishing  every  day  as 
the  colony  strengthened  ;  that  the  earth  began  to  re 
ward  their  labour,  and  to  furnish  liberally  for  their 
subsistence ;  that  the  seas  and  rivers  were  found  ful 
of  fish,  the  air  sweet,  the  climate  healthy;  and 
Above  all,  that  they  were  there  in  the  full  enjoyment 
of  liberty,  civil  and  religious  -•  he  therefore  thought, 
that  reflecting  and  conversing  on  these  subjects  would 
be  more  comfortable,  as  tending  more  to  make  them 
contented  with  their  situation  ;  and  that  it  would  be 
more  becoming  the  gratitude  they  owed  to  the  Divine 
Being,  if,  instead  of  a  fast,  they  shculd  proclaim  a 
thanksgiving.  His  advice  was  taken ;  and  from  that 


ESfeAVS.  247 

day  to  this  thsy  have,  in  every  year,  observed  cir- 
Cumstances  of  public  felicity  sufficient  to  furnish  em 
ployment  for  a  thanksgiving  day ;  which  is  therefore 
constantly  ordered  and  religiously  observed. 

I  see  in  the  public  newspapers  of  different  States 
frequent  complaints  of  hard  times,  deadness  qftrade^ 
scarcity  of  money,  &c.  &c.  It  is  not  my  intention 
tc  assert  or  maintain  that  these  complaints  are  entire 
ly  without  foundation.  There  can  be  no  country  or 
nation  existing,  in  which  there  will  not  be  some  peo» 
pie  so  circumstanced  as  to  find  it  hard  to  gain  a  live 
lihood;  people,  who  are  not  in  the  way  of  any 
profitable  trade,  with  whom  money  is  scarce,  be 
cause  they  have  nothing  to  give  in  exchange  for  it; 
and  it  is  always  in  the  power  of  a  email  number 
to  make  a  great  clamour.  But  let  us  take  a  cool 
view  of  the  general  state  of  our  affairs,  and  per 
haps  the  prospect  will  appear  less  gloomy  than  has 
been  imagined. 

The  great  business  of  the  continent  is  agriculture. 
For  one  artizan,  or  merchant,  I  suppose  we  nave  at 
least  one  hundred  farmers,  by  far  the  greatest  part 
cultivators  of  their  own  fertile  lands,  from  whence 
many  of  them  draw  not  only  food  necessary  for  their 
subsistence,  but  the  materials  of  their  clothing,  so  as 
to  need  very  few  foreign  supplies :  while  they  have  a 
surplus  of  productions  to  dispose  of,  whereby  wealth 
is  gradually  accumulated.  Such  has  been  the  good 
ness  of  Divine  Providence  to  these  regions,  and  so 
favourable  the  climate,  that,  since  the  three  or  four 
years  of  hardship  in  the  first  settlement  of  our  fathers 
here,  a  famine  or  scarcity  has  never  been  heai  d  of 
amongst  us  ;  on  the  contrary,  though  some  years  may 
bave  been  more,  and  others  less  plentiful,  there  hai 
always  been  provision  enough  for  ourselves,  and  a 
quantity  to  spare  for  exportation.  And  although  the 
crops  of  last  year  were  generally  good,  never  was  the 
fanner  better  paid  for  trie  part  he  can  spare  com 
merce,  as  the  published  price  currents  abundantly 
testify.  The  lands  he  possesses  are  also  continually 
rising  in  value  with  the  increase  of  population  ;  and 
on  the  whole,  he  is  enabled  to  give  such  good  wage* 
to  those  who  work  for  him,  that  all  who  are  acquaiut- 


248  ESSAYS. 

ed  with  the  old  world  must  agree,  that  in  no  part  O 
it  are  the  labouring  poor  so  generally  well  fed,  well 
lodged,  and  well  paid,  as  in  the  United  Stated  of 
America. 

If  we  enter  the  cities,  we  find  that  since  the  Re* 
yolution,  the  owners  of  houses  and  lots  of  ground 
have  had  their  interest  vastly  augmented  in  value ; 
rents  have  risen  to  an  astonishing  height,  and  thenc* 
encouragement  to  increase  building,  which  gives  em 
ployment  to  an  abundance  of  workmen,  as  does  als* 
the  increased  luxury  and  splendour  of  living  of  th 
inhabitants  thus  made  richer.  These  workmen  al. 
demand  and  obtain  much  higher  wages  than  any 
other  part  of  the  world  would  afford  them,  and  are 
paid  in  ready  money.  This  rank  of  people  therefore 
do  not,  or  ought  not,  to  complain  of  hard  times ;  and 
they  make  a  very  considerable  part  of  the  city  inha 
bitants. 

At  the  Distance  I  live  from  our  American  fish 
eries,  I  cannot  speak  of  them  with  any  degree  of  cer 
tainty  ;  but  I  have  not  heard  that  the  labour  of  the 
valuable  race  of  men  employed  in  them  is  worse  paid, 
or  that  they  met  with  Jess  success,  than  before  the  re 
volution.  The  whale-men  indeed  have  been  depriv 
ed  of  one  market  for  their  oil,  but  another,  I  hear,  is 
opening  for  them,  which  it  is  hoped  may  be  equally  ad 
vantageous  ;  and  the  demand  is  constantly  increas 
ing  for  their  spermaceti  candles,  which  therefore  bear 
a  much  higher  price  than  formerly. 

There  remain  the  merchants  and  shopkeepers. 
Of  these,  though  they  make  but  a  small  part  01  tha 
whole  nation,  the  number  is  considerable,  too  great 
indeed  for  the  business  they  are  employed  in ;  for  the 
consumption  of  goods  in  every  country  has  its  limits; 
the  faculties  of  the  people,  that  is,  their  ability  to  buy 
end  pay,  are  equal  to  a  certain  quantity  of  merchant, 
disc.  If  merchants  calculate  amiss  on  this  proportion, 
and  import  too  much,  they  will  of  course  find  the  sale 
dull  for  the  overplus,  and  some  of  them  will  say  that 
trade  languishes.  They  should,  and  doubtless  will, 
grow  wiser  by  experience,  and  import  less. 

If  too  many  artificers  in  town,  and  farmers  from 
the  country,  flattering  themselves  with  the  idea  ol 


ESSAYS.  249 

tending  easier  lives,  turn  shopkeepers,  the  whole 
tatural  quantity  of  that  business  divided  among 
hem  all  may  afford  too  small  a  share  for  each,  and 
jccasion  complaints  that  trading  is  dead  :  these  may 
tlso  suppose  that  it  is  owing  to  scarcity  of  money, 
while,  iti  fact,  it  is  not  so  much  from  the  fewness  of 
buyers,  as  from  the  excessive  number  of  sellers,  that 
the  mischief  arises ;  and,  if  ever}r  shopkeeping  farmer 
and  mechanic  would  return  to  the  use  of  his  plough 
and  working  tools,  there  would  remain  of  widows 
and  other  women,  shop-keepers  sufficient  for  the  busi 
ness,  which  might  then  afford  them  a  comfortable 
maintenance. 

Whoever  has  travelled  through  the  various  parts  of 
Europe,  and  observed  how  small  is  the  proportion  of 
people  in  affluence  or  easy  circumstances  th^re,  com 
pared  with  those  in  poverty  and  misery ;  the  few  rich 
and  haughty  landlords,  the  multitude  of  poor,  abject, 
rack-rented,  tythe-paying  tenants,  and  half-paid  and 
half-starved  ragged  labourers ;  and  views  here  the 
happy  mediocrity  that  so  generally  prevails  through 
out  these  States,  where  the  cultivator  works  for  him 
self,  and  supports  his  family  in  decent  plenty ;  will 
methinks,  see  abundant  reason  to  bless  Divine  Pro 
vidence  for  the  evident  and  great  difference  in  our 
favour,  and  be  convinced  that  no  nation  known  to 
us  enjoy  a  greater  share  of  human  felicity. 

It  is  true,  that  in  some  of  the  States  there  are  par 
ties  and  discords;  but  let  us  look  back,  and  ask  if  we 
were  ever  without  them  ?  Such  will  exist  wherever 
there  is  liberty ;  and  perhaps  Jliey  help  to  preserve  it. 
By  the  collision  of  different  sentiments,  sparks  of 
truth  are  struck  out,  and  political  light  is  obtained,. 
The  different  factions,  which  at  present  divide  us. 
aim  all  at  the  public  good ;  the  differences  are  only 
about  the  various  modes  of  promoting  it.  Things, 
actions,  measures,  and  objects  of  all  kinds,  present 
themselves  to  the  minds  of  men  in  such  a  variety  of 
lights,  that  it  is  not  possible  we  should  all  think  alike 
at  the  game  time  on  every  subject,  when  hardly  the 
same  man  retains  at  all  times  the  same  ideas  of  it.  Par 
ties  are  therefore  the  common  lot  of  humanity  ;  and 
purs  are  by  no  means  more  mischievous  or  less  benefici 


250  ESSAYS. 

al  than  than  those  of  other  countries,  nations,  and  sge§, 
enjoying  in  the  sarae  degree  the  great  blessings  of 
political  liberty. 

Some  indeed  among  us  are  not  so  much  grieved 
for  the  present  state  of  our  affairs,  as  apprehensive 
for  the  future.  The  growth  of  luxury  alarms  them, 
and  they  think  we  are  from  that  alone  in  the  high  road 
to  ruin.  Thsy  observe,  that  no  revenue  is  sufficient 
without  economy,  and  that  the  most  plentiful  in 
come  of  a  whole  people  from  the  natural  production* 
of  their  country  may  be  dissipated  in  vain  and  need 
less  expenses;  and  poverty  be  introduced  in  the 
place  of  affluence.  This  may  be  possible,  ft  how 
ever,  rarely  happens  ;  for  there  seems  to  be  in  every 
nation  a  greater  proportion  of  industry  and  frugality, 
which  tend  to  enrich,  than  of  idleness  and  prodigal 
ity,  which  occasion  poverty ;  so  that  upon  the  whole 
there  is  a  continual  accumulation.  Reflect  what 
Spain,  Gaul,  Germany,  and  Brtiain  were  in  the  time  of 
the  Romans,  inhabited  by  people  little  richer  than 
our  savages,  and  consider  the  wealth  that  they  at 
present  possess,  hi  numerous  well-built  cities,  im 
proved  farms,  rich  moveables,  magazines  stocked 
with  valuable  manufactures,  to  say  nothing  of  plate, 
jewels  and  coined  money ;  and  all  this,  notwithstand 
ing  their  bad,  wasteful,  plundering  governments,  and 
their  mad  destructive  wars ;  and  yet  luxury  and  ex 
travagant  living  has  never  suffered  much  restraint  in 
those  countries.  Then  consider  the  great  proportion 
of  industrious  frugal  fanners  inhabiting  the  interior 
parts  of  these  American  States,  and  of  whom  the 
body  of  our  nation  consists,  and  judge  whether  it  is 
possible  that  the  luxury  of  our  seaports  can  be  suffi 
cient  :o  ruin  such  a  country.  If  the  importation  of 
foreign  luxuries  could  ruin  a  people,  we  should  pro 
bably  have  been  ruined  long  ago;  for  the  British  na 
tion  claimed  a  right,  and  practised  it,  of  importing 
among  us  not  only  the  superfluities  of  their  own  pro 
duction,  but  those  of  every  nation  under  heaven;  we 
bought  and  consumed  them,  and  yet  we  flourished 
and  grew  rich.  At  present  our  independent  govern 
ments  may  do  what  we  could  not  then  do,  discourage 
by  heavy  duties,  or  prevent  by  heavy  prohibitions, 


ESSAYb.  25) 

§uch  irnoortations,  and  thereby  grow  richer  : — if,  in 
deed,  which  may  admit  of  dispute,  the  desire  of 
adorning  ourselves  with  fine  clothes,  possessing  fine 
furniture,  with  elegant  houses,  &c.  is  not,  by  strong 
ly  inciting  to  labour  and  industry,  the  occasion  of 
producing  a  greater  value  than  is  contu  ued  in  the 
gratification  01  that  desire. 

The  agriculture  and  fisheries  of  the  United  States 
Are  the  great  sources  of  our  increasing  wealth.  He 
lhat  puts  a  seed  into  the  earth  is  recompensed,  per 
haps,  by  receiving  forty  out  of  it,  and  he  who  draws 
a  fish  out  of  our  water  draws  up  a  pieca  of  silver. 

Let  us  (and  there  is  no  doubt  but  we  shall)  be  at 
tentive  to  thesa,  and  then  the  power  of  rivals,  with 
all  their  restraining  and  prohibiting  acts,  cannot 
much  hurt  us.  We  are  sens  of  the  earth  and  sea?, 
and,  like  Antreus  in  the  fable,  if  in  wrestling  with  a 
Hercules,  we  now  and  then  receive  a  fall,  the  touch 
of  our  parents  will  communicate  to  us  fresh  strength 
and  vigour  to  renew  the  contes 


ESSAYS. 


INFORMATION  TO  THOSE  WHO  WOULD 
REMOVE  TO  AMERICA. 


p 
b 


'  MANY  persons  in  Europe  have  directly,  or  by  let 
ters,  expressed  to  the  writer  of  this,  who  is  well  ac 
quainted  with  North  America,  their  desire  of  trans 
orting  and  establishing  themselves  in  that  country, 
ut  who  appear  to  have  formed,  through  ignorance^ 
mistaken  ideas  and  expectations  of  what  is  to  be  ob 
tained  there  ;  he  thinks  it  may  be  useful,  and  prevent 
inconvenient,  expensive,  and  fruitless  removals  anJ 
voyages  of  improper  persons,  if  he  gives  some  clear 
er  notions  of  that  part  of  the  world  than  appear  to 
have  hitherto  prevailed. 

He  finds  it  is  imagined  by  numbers,  that  the  in 
habitants  of  North  America  are  rich,  capable  of  re 
warding,  and  disposed  to  reward,  all  sorts  of  ingenuity  ; 
that  they  are  at  the  same  time  ignorant  of  all  the  scien 
ces,  and  consequently  that  strangers,  possessing  talents 
in  the  belles-lettres,,  fine  arts,  &c.  must  be  highly  es 
teemed,  and  so  well  paid  as  to  become  easily  rich 
themselves  ;  that  there  are  also  abundance  of  pro 
fitable  offices  to  be  disposed  of  which  the  natives  are 
not  qualified  to  fill  ;  and  that  having  few  persons  of 
family  among  them,  strangers  of  birth  must  be  great- 
)y  respected,  and  of  course  easily  obtain  the  best  of 
•Jiose  offices,  which  will  make  all  their  fortunes  i 
thai  the  governrrfents  too,  to  encourage  emigrations 
from  Euiope,  not  only  pay  the  expense  of  personal 
transportation,  but  give  lands  gratis  to  strangers,  with 
negroes  to  work  for  them,  utensils  of  husbandry,  and 
stocks  of  cattle.  These  are  all  wild  imaginations  $ 
and  those  who  go  America  with  expectations  found 
ed  upon  them,  will  surely  find  themselves  disap 
pointed. 
Tne  truth  is,  that  though  there  are  in  that  country 


ESSAYS.  254 

few  people  so  miserable  as  the  poor  of  Europe,  there 
are  also  very  few  that  in  Europe  would  be  called 
rich :  it  is  rather  a  general  happy  mediocrity  that 
prevails.  There  are  few  great  proprietors  of  the  soil, 
and  few  tenants;  most  people  cultivate  their  own 
lands,  or  follow  some  handicraft  or  merchandise ; 
very  few  rich  enough  to  live  idly  upon  their  rents  or 
incomes,  or  to  pay  the  high  prices  given  in  Europe 
for  painting,  statutes,  architecture,  and  the  other 
works  of  art  that  are  more  curious  than  useful 
Hence  the  natural  genuises  that  have  arisen  in  Ame 
rica,  with  such  talents,  have  uniformly  quitted  that  ; 
country  for  Europe,  where  they  can  be  more  suitably  ' 
rewarded.  It  is  true  that  letters  and  mathematical 
knowledge  are  in  esteem  there,  but  they  are  at  the  same 
time  more  common  than  is  apprehended ;  their  being 
alreadyjCxistingnine  colleges,  or  universities,  viz.  four 
in  Nevr  England,  and  one  in  each  of  the  provinces  of 
New  York,  New  Jersy,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland,  and 
Virginia — all  furnished  with  learned  professors ;  be 
sides  a  number  of  smaller  acadamies :  these  edu 
cate  many  of  their  youth  in  the  languages,  and  those 
sciences  that  qualify  men  for  the  professions  of  divi 
nity,  law  or  physic.  Strangers,  indeed,  are  by  no 
means  excluded  from  exercising  those  professions; 
and  the  quick  increase  of  inhabitants  every  where 
gives  them  a  chance  of  employ,  which  they  have  in 
common  with  the  natives.  Of  civil  offices  or  em 
ployments,  there  are  few ;  no  superflous  ones,  as 
in  Europe ;  and  it  is  a  rule  established  in  some  of  th« 
States,  that  no  office  should  be  so  profitable  as  to 
make  it  desirable.  The  36th  article  of  the  const! tu- 
lion  of  Pennsylvania  runs  expressly  in  these  words : 
"  As  every  freeman,  to  preserve  hj§  independence  (if 
he  has  not  a  sufficient  estate,)  ought  to  have  some 
profession,  calling,  trade,  or  farm,  whereby  he  may 
honestly  subsist,  there  can  be  no  necessitv  for,  nor 
use  in  establishing,  offices  of  profit;  the  usual  effects 
of  which  are  dependence  and  servility;  unbecoming 
freemen,  in  the  possessors  and  expectants ;  faction, 
contention,  corruption,  and  disorder  among  the  peo 
ple.  Wherefore,  whenever  an  office,  through  ia« 


254  ESSAT3. 

crease  of  fees  or  otherwise,  becomes  so  profitable  at 
to  occasion  many  to  apply  for  it,  the  profits  ought  te 
be  lessened  by  the  legislature." 

These  ideas  prevailing  more  or  less  in  the  United 
States,  it  cannot  be  worth  ai.y  man's  white,  who  has 
a  means  of  living  at  home,  to  expatriate  himself  in 
hopes  of  obtaining  a  profitable  civil  office  in  Ameri 
ca  ;  and  as  to  military  offices,  they  are  at  an  end  with 
the  war,  the  armies  being  disbanded.  Much  le«i  is 
it  advisable  for  a  person  to  gx>  thither,  who  has  no 
other  quality  to  recommend  him  than  his  birth.  In 
Europe  it  has  indeed  its  value;  but  it  is  a  commodi 
ty  that  cannot  be  carried  to  a  worse  market  than  to 
that  of  America,  where  people  do  not  enquire  con 
cerning  a  stranger,  What  is  he?  but  Whuicnnhedo? 
If  he  has  any  useful  ait,  he  is  welcome;  and  if  he 
exercises  it,  and  behaves  well  he  will  be  respected  by 
all  that  know  him  :  but  a  mere  man  of  quality,  who 
"  on  that  account  wants  to  live  upon  the  public  by 
some  office  or  salary,  will  be  despised  and  disregard 
ed.  The  husbandman  is  in  honour  there  and  even 
the  mechanic,  because  their  employments  are  useful. 
The  people  have  a  saying,  that  God  Almighty  is  him 
self  a  mechanic,  the  greatest  in  the  universe;  and  he 
is  respected  and  admired  more  for  the  variety,  inge 
nuity,  and  utility  of  his  handicraft  works,  than  for 
the  antiquity  of  his  family.  They  are  pleased  with 
the  observation  of  a  negro,  and  frequently  mention  it, 
that  Boccarorra  (meaning  the  white  man)  make  de 
black  man  workee,  make  de  horse  workee,  make  de 
ox  workee,  make  ebery  ting  workee,  only  de  hog. 
He,  de  hog,  no  workee;  he  eat,  he  drink,  he  walk 
about,  he  go  to  sleen  when  he  please,  he  libb  like  a  gen 
tleman.  Accor«i*ng  to  these  opinions  of  the  Ameri 
cans,  one  of  them  would  think  himself  more  obliged 
to  a  genealogist,  who  could  prove  for  him  that  his  an 
cestors  and  relations  for  ten  generations  had  been 
ploughmen,  smiths,  carpenters,  turners,,  weavers,  tan 
ners,  or  even  shoe-makers,  and  consequently  that 
they  were  useful  members  of  society ;  than  if  he 
could  only  prove  that  they  were  gentlemen,  doing 
nothing  of  value,  but  living  idly  on  the  labour  of 


ESSAYS.  255 

others,  mere  fruges  consumere  nati,*  and  othervviso 
good  for  nothing,  till  by  their  death  their  estates,  like 
the  carcass  of  the  negro's  gentleman-hog,  come  to  be 
cut  up. 

With  regarrt  to  the  encouragements  for  strangers 
from  government,  they  are  really  only  what  are  de 
rived  from  good  laws  and  liberty.  Strangers  are 
welcome,  because  there  is  room  enough  for  them  all, 
and  therefore  the  old  inhabitants  are  not  jealous  of 
them ;  the  laws  protect  them  sufficiently,  so  that  they 
have  no  need  of  the  patronage  of  great  men ;  and 
every  one  will  enjoy  securely  the  profits  of  his  indus 
try.  But  if  he  does  not  bring  a  fortune  with  him  he 
must  work  and  be  industrious  to  live.  One  or  two 
years  residence  give  him  all  the  rights  of  a  citizen ; 
but  the  government  does  not  at  present,  whatever 
it  may  have  done  in  former  times,  hire  people  to 
become  settlers,  by  paying  their  passage,  giving  land, 
negroes,  utensils,  stock,  or  any  other  kind  of  emolu 
ment  whatsoever.  In  short,  America  is  the  land  ol 
labour,  and  by  no  means  what  the  English  call  Lub- 
berland,  and  tlie  French  Pays  de  Cocagne,  where  the 
streets  are  said  to  be  paved  with  half-peck  loaves, 
the  houses  tiled  with  pancakes,  and  where  the  fowls 
fly  about  ready  roasted,  crying,  Come  eat  me! 

Who  then  are  the  kind  of  persons  to  whom  an  em 
igration  to  America  may  be  advantageous  ?  And  what 
are  the  advantages  they  may  reasonably  expect  ? 

Land  being  cheap  in  that  country,  from  the  vast 
forests  still  void  of  inhabitants,  and  not  likely  to  be 
occupied  in  an  age  to  come,  insomuch  that  the  pro 
perty  of  an  hundred  acres  of  fertile  soil,  full  of  wood, 
may  be  obtained  near  the  frontiers,  in  many  places, 
for  eight  or  ten  guineas,  hearty  young  labouring  men, 
who  understand  the  husbandry  of  corn  and  cattle, 
which  is  nearly  the  same  in  that  country  as  in  Eu 
rope,  may  easily  establish  themselves  there.  A  little 
money,  saved  of  the  good  wages  they  receive  there 
while  they  work  for  others,  enables  them  to  buy  the 


*-at   -J|'  thr  corn.  YVattt. 


256  ESSAYS. 

land  and  begin  their  plantation,  in  which  they  am 
assisted  by  the  good  will  of  their  neighbours,  and 
some  credit.  Multitudes  of  poor  people  from  Eng 
land,  Ireland,  Scotland,  and  Germany,  have  by  this 
means  in  a  few  years  became  wealthy  fanners,  who 
in  their  own  countries,  where  all  the  lands  are  fully 
occupied,  and  the  wages  of  labour  low,  could  nevei 
have  emerged  from  the  mean  condition  wherein  they 
were  born. 

From  the  salubrity  of  the  air,  the  healthiness  of  tha 
climate,  the  plenty  of  good  provisions,  and  the  en 
couragement  to  early  marriages,  by  the  certainty  of 
subsistence  in  cultivating  the  earth,  the  increase  of 
inhabitants  by  natural  generation  is  very  rapid  in 
America,  and  becomes  still  more  so  by  the  accession 
of  strangers :  hence  there  is  a  continual  demand  for 
inoro  artisans  of  all  the  necessary  and  useful  kinds, 
to  supply  those  cultivators  of  the  earth  with  houses, 
and  with  furniture  and  utensJls  of  the  grosser  sorts, 
which  cannot  so  we'll  be  brought  from  Europe.  To 
lerably  good  workmen  in  any  of  those  mechanic  arts, 
are  sure  to  find  employ,  and  to  be  well  paid  for  their 
work,  there  being  no  restraints  preventing  strangers 
from  exercising  any  art  they  understand,  nor  any 
permission  necessary.  If  they  are  poor,  they  begin 
first  as  servants  or  journeymen  ;  and  if  they  are  sober, 
industrious,  and  frugal,  they  soon  become  masters, 
establish  themselves  in  business,  marry,  raise  iami- 
lies,  and  become  respectable  citizens. 

Also  persons  of  moderate  families  and  capitals, 
who  having  a  number  of  children  to  provide  for,  are 
desirous  of  bringing  them  up  to  industry,  and  to  se 
cure  estates  to  their  posterity,  have  opportunities  of 
doing  it  in  America,  which  Europe  does  not  afford. 
There  they  may  be  taught  and  practise  profitable 
mechanic  aits,  without  incurring  disgrace  on  that 
account;  but,  on  the  contrary,  acquiring  respect  to 
such  abilities.  There  small  capitals  laid  out  in  I 
lands,  which  daily  become  more  valuable  by  the  in 
crease  of  people,  afford  a  solid  prospect  of  ample  for 
tunes  thereafter  for  those  children.  The  writer  ol 
this  haa  known  several  instances  of  large  tracts  of 
land  bought  on  what  was  then  the  frontiers  of  Penn- 


ESSAYS.  257 

sylvania,  for  ten  pounds  per  hundred  acres,  which, 
after  twenty  years,  when  the  settlements  had  been 
extended  far  beyond  them,  sold  readily,  without  any 
improvement  made  upon  them,  for  three  pounds  per 
acre.  The  acre  in  America  is  the  same  with  the 
English  acre,  or  the  acre  of  Normandy. 

Those  who  desire  to  understand  the  state  of  go 
vernment  in  America,  would  do  well  to  read  the  con- 
r.itutions  of  the  several  States,  and  the  articles  of 
confederation  which  bind  the  whole  together  for  ge- 
«eral  purposes,  under  the  direction  of  one  Assembly, 
called  the  Congress.  These  constitutions  have  been 
printed,  by  order  of  Congress,  in  America;  two  edi 
tions  of  them  have  been  printed  in  London ;  and  a 
good  translation  of  them  into  French,  has  lately  been 
published  at  Paris. 

Several  of  the  princes  of  Europe  having  of  late, 
from  an  opinion  of  advantage  to  arise  by  producing 
ail  commodities  and  manufactures  within  their  own 
dominions,  so  as  to  diminish  or  render  useless  their 
importations,  have  endeavoured  to  entice  workmen 
from  other  countries,  by  high  salaries,  privileges,  &c. 
Many  persons  pretending  to  be  skilled  in  various  great 
manufactures,  imagining  that  America  must  be  in 
want  of  them,  and  that  the  Congress  would  probably 
be  disposed  to  imitate  the  princes  abovementioned, 
have  proposed  to  go  over  on  condition  of  having  their 
passage  paid,  lands  given,  salaries  appointed,  exclu 
sive  privileges  for  terms  of  years,  &c.  Such  persons, 
on  reading  the  articles  of  confederation,  will  find  that 
the  Congress  have  no  power  committed  to  them,  or 
money  put  into  their  hands,  for  such  purposes ;  and 
hat,  if  any  such  enoourngement  is  given,  it  must  be 
iff  the  government  of  some  separate  state.  This, 
Aowever,  has  rarely  been  done  in  America ;  and 
when  it  has  been  done,  it  has  rarely  succeeded,  so  as 
to  establish  a  manufacture,  which  the  country  was 
not  yet  so  ripe  for  as  to  encourage  private  persons  to 
set  it  up  ;  labour  being  generally  too  dear,  difficult  to 
be  kept  together,  every  one  desiring  to  be  a  master,  and 
the  cheapness  of  land  inclining  many  to  leave  trades 
for  agriculture.  Some  indeed  have  met  with  success, 


258  ESSAYS. 

and  are  carried  on  to  advantage ;  but  they  are  gene* 
rally  such  as  require  only  a  few  hands,  or  wherein 
great  part  of  the  work  is  performed  by  machines. 
Goods  that  are  bulky,  and  of  so  small  a  value  as  not 
well  to  bear  the  expense  of  freight,  may  often  be  made 
cheaper  in  the  country  than  they  can  be  imported  ; 
and  the  manufacture  of  such  goods  will  be  profitable 
wherever  there  is  a  sufficient  demand.  The  farmeri 
m  America  produce  indeed  a  good  deal  of  wool  and 
fla^,  and  none  is  exported — it  is  all  worked  up ;  bit 
k  is  in  ihe  way  of  domestic  manufacture,  for  the  us« 
of  die  family.  The  buying  up  quantities  of  wool  and 
fia><,  with  the  design  to  employ  spinners,  weavers, 
&-» .  and  form  great  establishments,  producing  quan 
tities  of  linen  and  woollen  goods  for  sale,  has  been 
se\eral  times  attempted  in  different  provinces ;  but 
three  projects  have  generally  failed,  goods  of  equal 
value  being  imported  cheaper.  And  when  the  go* 
ve-nments  have  been  solicited  to  support  such  schemet 
by  encouragements,  in  money,  or  by  imposing  duties 
en  importation  of  such  goods,  it  has  been  generally 
relused,  on  this  principle,  that  if  the  country  is  ripe 
foi  the  manufacture,  it  may  be  carried  on  by  privatt 
persons  to  advantage;  and,  if  not,  it  is  folly  to  think 
of  forcing  nature.  Great  establishments  of  manufac 
ture  require  great  numbers  of  poor  do  the  work  for 
small  wages ;  those  poor  are  to  be  found  in  Europe, 
but  will  not  be  found  in  America,  till  the  lands  are 
all  taken  up  and  cultivated,  and  the  excess  of  peo 
ple  who  cannot  get  land  want  employment.  Th« 
^manufacture  of  silk,  they  say,  is  natural  in  France, 
as  that  of  cloth  in  England,  because  each  country 
produces  in  plenty  the  first  njaterial ;  but  if  England 
vill  have  a  manufacture  of  silk  as  well  as  that  of 
doth,  and  France  of  cloth  as  well  as  that  of  silk 
these  unnatural  operations  must  be  supported  by 
mutual  prohibitions,  or  high  duties  on  the  importa 
tions  of  each  others  goods;  by  which  means  the 
workmen  are  enabled  to  tax  the  home  consumer  by 
greater  prices,  while  the  higher  wages  they  receive 
makes  them  neither  happier  nor  richer,  since  they 
only  drink  more  and  work  less.  Therefore  the  go 
vernment  in  America  do* nothing  to  encourage  such 


ESSAYS.  2S9 

projeets.  The  people  by  this  means  are  not  imposed 
on  either  by  the  merchant  or  mechanic :  if  the  mer 
chant  demands  too  much  profit  on  imported  ghoes, 
they  buy  of  the  shoemaker ;  and  if  he  asks  too  high  a 
price,  they  take  them  of  the  merchant :  thus  the  two 
professions  are  checks  on  each  ether.  The  shoe 
maker  however  has,  on  the  whole,  a  considerable 
profit  upon  his  labour  in  America,  beyond  what  h« 
Lad  in  Europe,  as  he  can  add  to  his  price  a  sun 
nearly  equal  to  all  the  expenses  of  freight  and  com 
mission,  risk  or  assurance,  &c.  necessarily  charger 
by  the  merchant.  And  the  case*  is  the  same  with  tlia 
workman  in  every  other  mechanic  art.  Hence  it  is, 
that  the  artisans  generally  live  better  and  more  easily 
in  America  than  in  Europe ;  and  such  as  are  good 
economists  make  a  comfortable  provision  for  age, 
and  for  their  children.  Such  may,  therefore  move 
with  advantage  to  America. 

In  the  old  long-settled  countries  of  Europe,  all  arts, 
trades,  professions,  farms,  &c.  are  si  full,  that  it  is 
difficult  for  a  poor  man  who  has  children  to  place 
them  where  they  may  gain,  or  learn  to  gain,  a  decent 
livelihood.  The  artisans,  who  fear  creating  future 
rivals  in  business,  refuse  to  take  apprentices,  but 
upon  conditions  of  money,  maintenance  or  the  like, 
which  the  parents  are  unable  to  comply  with. 
Hence  the  youth  are  dragged  up  in  ignorance  of  every 
gainful  art,  raid  obliged  to  became  soldiers,  or  servants, 
or  thieves,  for  a  subsistence.  In  America  the  rapid  in 
crease  of  inhabitants  takes  away  that  fear  of  rivalship, 
and  artisans  willingly  receive  apprentices  from  the 
hope  of  profit  by  their  labour,  during  the  remainder 
of  the  lime  stipulated,  after  they  shall  be  instructed. 
Hence  it  is  easy  for  poor  families  to  get  their  children 
Instructed;  for  the  artisans  are  so  desirous  of  ap 
prentices,  that  many  of  them  will  even  give  money 
to  the  parents,  to  have  boys  from  ten  to  fifteen  years 
of  age  bound  apprentices  to  them,  till  the  age  ol 
twenty-one ;  ftno  many  poor  parents  have,  by  that 
means,  on  their  arrival  in  the  country,  raised  money 
enough  to  buy  land  sufficient  to  establish  themselves, 
and  to  subsist  the  rest  of  the  family  by  agriculture. 


£60  ESSAYS. 

These  contracts  for  apprentices  are  made  before  a 
magistrate,  who  regulates  the  agreement  according  to 
reason  and  justice;  and,  having  in  view  the  forma 
tion  of  a  future  useful  citizen,  obliges  the  master  to 
engage  by  a  written  indenture,  not  only  that,  during 
the  time  of  service  stipulated,  the  apprentice  shall  he 
duly  provided  with  meat,  drink,  apparal,  washing  and 
lodging,  and  at  its  expiration  with  a  complete  new 
suit  of  clothes,  but  also,  that  he  shall  be  taught,  to  read, 
write,  and  cast  accounts ;  and  that  he  shall  be  well 
instructed  in  the  art  or  profession  of  his  master,  ot 
some  other,  by  which  he  may  afterwards  gain  a  live 
lihood,  and  be  able  in  his  turn  to  raise  a  family.  A 
copy  of  this  indenture  is  given  to  the  apprentice  or 
his  friends,  and  the  magistrate  keeps  a  record  of  it, 
to  which  recourse  may  be  had,  in  case  of  failure  by 
the  master  in  any  point  of  performance.  This  de- 
cire  among  the  masters  to  have  more  hands  employ 
ed  in  working  for  them,  induces  them  to  pay  the  pas 
sage  ot  young  persons  of  both  sexes,  who,  on  their  ar 
rival,  agree  to  serve  them  one,  two,  three,  or  four 
years;  those  who  have  already  learned  a  trade, 
agreeing  for  a  shorter  term,  in  proportion  to  their 
skill,  and  the  consequent  in) mediate  value  of  their 
service ;  and  those  who  have  none,  agreeing  for  a 
longer  term,  in  consideration  of  being  taught  an  art 
their  poverty  would  not  permit  them  to  acquire  in 
their  own  country. 

The  almost  general  mediocrity  of  fortune  that  pre 
vails  in  America,  obliging  its  people  to  follow  some 
business  for  subsistence,  those  vices  that  arise  usual 
ly  from  idleness,  are  in  a  great  measure  prevented. 
Industry  and  constant  employment  are  great  preser 
vatives  of  the  morals  and  virtue  of  a  nation.  Hence 
fcad  examples  to  youth  are  more  rare  in  America, 
ivhich  must  be  a  comfortable  consideration  to  pa 
rents.  To  this  may  be  truly  added,  that  serious  re 
ligion,  under  its  various  denominations,  is  not  only 
tolerated,  but  respected  and  practised,  Atheism  is 
unknown  there ;  and  infidelity  rare  and  secret ;  so 
that  persons  may  live  to  a  great  age  in  that  country 
without  having  their  piety  shocked  by  meeting  with 


ESSAYS  261 

either  an  athittst  or  an  infidel.  And  the  Divine  P« 
ing  seems  to  have  manifested  his  approbation  of  the 
mutual  forbearance  and  kindness  with  which  the 
different  sects  treat  each  other,  by  the  remarkable 
prosperity  with  which  he  has  been  pleased  to  favoux 
the  whole  country. 


THOUGHTS   ON  COMMERCIAL 
SUBJECTS. 

Of  Embargoes  upon  Corn,  and  of  the  Poor. 

IN  mland  high  countries,  remote  from  the  sea,  and 
whose  rivers  are  small,  running  from  the  country, 
and  not  fo  it,  as  is  the  case  with  Switzerland;  great 
distress  may  arise  from  a  course  of  bad  harvests,  if 
public  graneries  are  not  provided,  and  kept  well 
stored.  Anciently,  too,  before  navigation  was  so 
general,  ships  so  plenty,  and  commercial  transac 
tions  so  well  established ;  even  maratime  countries 
might  be  occasionally  distressed  by  bad  crops.  But 
such  is  now  the  facility  of  communication  between 
those  countries,  than  an  unrestrained  commerce  can 
scarce  ever  fail  of  procuring  a  sufficiency  for  any  of 
them.  If  indeed  any  government  is  so  imprudent  as  to 
lay  its  hands  on  imported  corn,  forbid  its  exportation, 
or  compel  its  sale  at  limited  prices,  there  the  people 
may  suffer  some  famine  from  merchants  avoiding 
their  ports.  But  wherever  commerce  is  known  to 
be  always  free,  and  the  merchant  absolute  master  of 
his  commodity,  as  in  Holland,  there  will  always  be  a 
reasonable  supply. 

When  an  exportation  of  [corn  takes  place,  occa 
sioned  by  a  higher  price  in  some  foreign  countries,  it 


ESSAYS.  62 

is  common  to  raise  a  clamour,  on  the  supposition  that 
we  shall  thereby  produce  a  domestic  famine.  Then 
follows  a  prohibition,  founded  on  the  imagin  iry  dis 
tresses  of  the  poor.  The  poor,  to  be  sure,  if  in  dis 
tress,  should  be  relieved ;  but  if  the  farmer  could  have 
a  high  price  for  his  corn  from  the  foreign  demand, 
must  he  by  a  prohibition  of  exportation  be  compelled 
to  take  a  low  price,  not  of  the  poor  only,  but  of  every 
>ne  that  eats  bread,  even  the  richest  ?  The  duty  o 
relieving  the  poor  is  incumbent  on  the  rich ;  but  by 
Iris  operation  the  whole  burden  is  laid  on  the  farmer 
vho  is  to  relieve  the  rich  at  the  same  time.  Of  thi 
toor,  too,  those  who  are  maintained  by  the  parishei 
fiave  no  right  to  claim  this  sacrifice  of  the  farmer :  as 
vvhile  they  have  their  allowance,  it  makes  no  differ 
ence  f»  them,  whether  bread  be  cheap  or  dear.— 
Those  working  poor,  who  now  mind  business  only 
five  or  four  days  in  the  week,  if  bread  should  be  so 
dear  as  to  oblige  them  to  work  the  whole  six  required 
by  the  commandment,  do  not  seem  to  be  aggrieved, 
so  as  to  have  a  right  to  public  redress*.  There  vvi  1 
then  remain,  comparatively,  only  a  few  familias  lo 
every  district,  who  from  sickness  or  a  gi" at  nunibtu 
of  children,  will  be  so  distressed  by  a  hi^h  price  oi 
corn,  as  need  relief;  and  these  should  be  tak  n  care  of 
by  particular  benefactions,  without  restraining  the 
farmer's  profit. 

Those  who  fear,  that  exportation  may  so  iar  drain 
the  country  of  corn,  as  to  starve  ourselves,  fear  what 
never  did,  i,or  never  can  happen.  They  may  as  well, 
when  they  view  the  tide  ebbing  towards  the  sea,  fear 
that  all  tne  water  will  leave  the  river.  The  price  of 
corn,  like  water,  will  find  its  own  level.  The  more 
we  export,  the  dearer  u  becomes  at  home  ;  the  more 
is  received  abroad,  the  cheaper  it  becomes  there 
and  as  soon  as  these  prices  are  equal,  the  exporta 
tion  stops  of  course.  As  the  seasons  vary  in  different 
countries,  tl<«i  calamity  of  a  bad  harvest  is  never  uni 
versal.  If,  'Jieis,  all  ports  were  always  open,  and  all 
commerce  f*ue,  every  maritime  country  would  gene 
rally  eat  bread  at  the  medium  price,  or  average  of  all 
the  harvests ;  which  would  probably  be  more  equal 
than  we  can  make  it  by  our  artiijcial  regulations,  and 


''ESSAYS.  263 

therefore  a  more  steady  encouragement  to  agriculture. 
The  nation  would  all  have  bread  at  this  middle 
price ;  and  that  nation,  which  at  any  time  inhumanly 
refuses  to  relieve  the  distresses  of  another  nation, 
deserves  no  compassion  when  in  distress  itselt 

Of  Hit  Effect  of  Dearness  of  Provisions  upon 
Working,  and  upon  Manufactures. 

The  common  people  do  not  work  for  pleasure  ge 
nerally,  but  from  necessity.  Cheapness  of  provisions 
make  them  more  idle ;  less  work  is  then  done,  it  is 
then  more  in  demand  proportionally,  and  of  course 
the  price  rises.  Dearness  of  provisions  obliges  th» 
manufacturer  to  work  more  days  and  more  hours; 
thus  more  work  is  done  than  equals  the  usual  demand : 
of  course  k  becomes  cheaper,  and  the  manufactures 
in  consequence. 

Of  an  Open"  Trade. 

Perhaps,  in  general,  it  would  be  better  if  govern 
ment  meddled  no  further  with  trade,  than  to  protect 
it,  and  let  it  take  its  course.  Most  of  the  statutes  or 
acts,  edicts,  arrets,  and  placaris  of  parliaments, 
princes,  and  states,  for  regulating,  directing,  or  10- 
straining  of  trade,  have,  we  think,  been  either  political 
blunders,  or  jobs  obtained  by  artful  men  for  private 
advantages  under  pretence  of  public  good.  When 
Colbert  assembled  some  of  the  wise  old  merchants  of 
France,  and  desired  their  advice  and  opinion  how  he-1 
could  best  serve  and  promote  commerce ;  their  an-** 
iwer,  after  consultation,  was  in  three  words  only.— 
Laissez  nous  faire  ;  "  Let  us  alone." — It  is  said  br 
a  very  solid  writer  of  tha  same  nation,  that  he  is  weft 
advanced  in  the  science  politics,  who  knows  the  full 
force  of  thai  maxim,  Pas  trop  gouvemer,  "  not  to 
govern  too  much;"  which,  perhaps,  would  be  of 
more  use  when  applied  to  trade,  than  in  any  other 
public  concern.  It  were  therefore  to  be  wished,  that 
commerce  were  as  free  between  all  the  nations  of  the 
world  as  it  is  between  the  several  counties  of  Englant- 


264  ESSAYS. 

eo  would  all,  by  mutual  communications,  obtain 
more  enjoyments.  Those  countries  do  not  ruin  each 
other  by  trade,  neither  would  the  nations.  No  na 
tion  was  ever  ruined  by  trade,  even,  seemingly,  the 
most  disadvantageous. 

Wherever  desirable  superfluities  are  imported  in« 
dustry  is  excited,  and  thereby  plenty  is  produced. 
Were  only  necessaries  permitted  to  be  purchased, 
nen  would  work  no  more  than  was  necessny  for 
hat  purpose. 

Of  the  Prohibition  with  respect  to  the  Exportation  $/ 
Gold  and  Silver. 

Could  Spain  and  Portugal  have  succeeded  in  ex 
ecuting  their  foolish  laws  for  hedging  in  the  cuckoo, 
as  Locke  calls  it,  and  have  kept  at  home  all  their 
gold  and  silver,  those  metals  would  by  this  time  have 
been  of  little  more  value  than  so  much  lead  or  iron. 
Their  plenty  would  have  lessened  their  value.  We 
see  the  folly  of  these  edicts;  but  are  not  our  own 
prohibitory  and  restrictive  laws,  that  are  professedly 
made  with  intention  to  bring  a  balance  in  our  favour 
from  our  trade  with  foreign  nations  to  be  paid  in 
money,  and  laws  to  prevent  the  necessity  of  export 
ing  that  money,  which  if  they  could  be  thoroughly 
executed,  would  make  money  as  plenty,  and  of  as 
little  value ;  I  say,  are  not  such  laws  a-kin  to  those 
Spanish  edicts ;  follies  of  the  same  family. 

Of  the  Returns  for  Foreign  Articles. 

In  fact,  the  produce  cf  other  countries  can  hardly 
e  obtained,  unless  by  fraud  and  rapine,  without  giv 
ing  the  produce  of  our  land  or  our  industry  in  ex 
change  for  them.  If  we  have  mines  of  gold  and  sil 
ver,  gold  and  silver  may  then  be  called  the  produce 
of  our  land  ;  if  we  have  not  we  can  only  fairly  ob 
tain  those  metals  by  giving  for  them  the  produce  of 
our  land  or  industry.  When  we  have  them,  they  are 
then  only  that  produce  or  industry  in  another  shape; 
which  we  may  give,  if  the  trade  requires  it,  and  out 


ESSAYS.  265 

other  produce  will  not  suit,  in  exchange  for  the  pro 
duce  of  some  other  country  that  furnishes  vhet  *ve 
have  more  occasion  for,  or  more  desire.  "W  nen  \ve 
have,  to  an  inconvenient  degree,  parted  with  our 
gold  and  silver,  our  industry  is  stimulated  (afiesh  to 
procure  more ;  that  by  its  means  we  may  contrive  to 
procure  the  same  advantages. 

Of  Restraints  upon  Commerce  in  Time  of  War. 

When  princes  make  war  by  prohibiting  commerce 
each  may  hurt  himself  as  much  as  his  enemy. — 
Traders,  who  by  their  business  are  promoting  the  com 
mon  good  of  mankind,  as  well  as  farmers  and  fish 
ermen,  who  labour  for  the  subsistence  of  all,  should 
never  be  interrupted  or  molested  in  their  business, 
but  enjoy  the  protection  of  all  in  the  time  of  war,  as 
\yell  as  in  the  time  of  peace. 

This  policy,  those  we  are  pleased  to  call  barbari 
ans,  have,  in  a  great  measure,  adopted :  for  tho 
trading  subjects  of  any  power,  with  whom  the  Em 
peror  of  Morrocco  may  be  at  war,  are  not  liable  to 
capture,  when  within  sight  of  his  land,  going  or  com 
ing;  and  have  otherwise  free  liberty  to  trade  and 
reside  in  his  dominions. 

As  a  maritime  power,  we  presume  it  is  not  thought 
right  that  Great  Britain  should  grant  such  freedom, 
except  partially,  as  in  the  case  of  war  with  France, 
when  tobacco  fs  allowed  to  be  sent  thither  under  the 
sanction  of  passports. 

Exchange  in  Trade  may  be  gainful  to  each 
Party. 

In  transactions  of  trade  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that,  like  gaming,  what  one  party  gains  the  other 
must  necessarily  lose.  The  gain  to  each  may  be 
equal.  If  A  has  more  com  than  he  can  consume, 
Out  wants  cattle  ;  and  B  has  more  cattle,  bv.t  wants 
corn,  exchange  is  ga'ui  to  each :  hereby  the  common 
stock  of  comforts  in  life  is  increased. 


»0  ESSAYS. 

Of  Paper  Credit.    ^ 

i  is  Impossible  for  governm  ent  to  circumserlBe  or 
fix  the  extent  of  paper  credit,  which  must  of  course 
fluctuate.  Government  may  as  well  pretend  to  lay 
down  rules  for  the  operations,  or  the  confidence  of 
every  individual  in  the  course  of  his  trade.  Any 
eeeming  temporary  evil  arising  ust  naturally  wort 
its  own  cure. 


ESSAYS.  26T 

fll/MOROUS   ACCOUNT    OF   A   CUSTOM 
AMONG  THE  AMERICANS,  ENTIT 
LED  WHITE- WASHING. 

Attributed  to  the  Pen  of  Dr.   Franklin 

ALTUOUGH  the  following  article  has  not  yet  appear 
td  in  any  collection  of  the  works  of  this  great  philo 
eopher,  we  are  inclined  to  receive  the  general  opinion, 
(from  the  plainness  of  the  style,  and  the  humour 
which  characterizes  it)  to  bo  the  performance  of  Dr., 
Franklin. — 

My  wish  is  to  give  you  some  account  of  the  pso- 
ple  of  these  new  States,  but  I  am  far  from  being  qua 
lified  for  the  purpose,  having  as  yet  seen  little  more 
than  the  cities  of  New  York  and  Philadelphia.  I 
have  discovered  but  few  national  singularities  among 
them.  Their  customs  and  manners  are  nearly  the 
same  with  those  of  England,  which  they  have  long 
been  used  to  copy.  For,  previous  to  the  Revolution, 
the  Americans  were  from  their  infancy  taught  to  look 
up  to  the  English  as  patterns  of  perfection  in  all  things. 
I  have  observed,  however,  one  custom,  which,  ior 
aught  I  know,  is  peculiar  to  this  country;  an  ac 
count  of  it  will  serve  to  fill  up  the  remainder  of  thii 
sheet,  and  may  afford  you  some  amusement.1 

When  a  young  couple  are  about  to  enter  into  the 
matrimonial  state,  a  n^ver-failing  article  in  the  mar 
riage  treaty  is,  that  the  lady  shall  have  and  enjoy  the 
free  and  unmolested  exercise  of  the  rights  of  white 
washing,  with  all  its  ceremonials,  privileges  and 
appurtenances.  A  young  woman  would  forego  th 
most  advantageous  connexion,  and  even  disappoint 
the  warmest  wish  of  her  heart,  rather  than  resign  the 
invaluable  right  You  would  wonder  what  this  pri- 
Tilege  of  white-washing  is :  I  will  endeavour  to  give 
you  some  idea  of  the  ceremony,  as  I  have  seen  it 
performed. 

There  is  no  season  of  the  year  in  which  the  Ind* 
way  not  claim  her  privilege,  if  she  pleases ;  bet  Uie 


263 

latter  end  of  May  is  most  generally  fixed  upon  ivt  tire 
purpose.  The  attentive  husband  may  judge  by  cer 
tain  prognostics  when  the  storm  is  nigh  at  hand. 
When  the  lady  is  imusuaJly  fretful,  finds  faults  with 
the  servants,  is  discontented  with  the  children,  and 
complains  much  of  the  filthiness  of  every  thing  about 
her,  these  are  signs  which  ought  not.  to  be  neglected ; 
yet  they  are  not  decisive,  as  they  sometimes  come  o»j 
and  go  off  again,  without  producing  any  farther  ef 
feet.  But  if,  when  the  husband  rises  in  the  morn- 

ng,  he  should  observe  in  the  yard  a  wheel-barrow 
with  a  quantity  of  lime  in  it,  or  should  see  certain 
buckets  with  lime  dissolved  in  water,  there  is  then 
no  time  to  be  lost ;  he  immediately  locks  up  the 
apartment  or  closet  where  h>s  papers  or  his  private 
property  is  kept,  and  putting  the  key  in  his  pocket, 
betakes  himself  to  flight :  for  a  husband,  however 
beloved,  becomes  a  perfect  nuisance  during  this  sea 
son  of 'female  rage,  his  authority  is  superseded,  his 
commission  is  suspended,  and  the  very  scullion,  who 
cleans  the  brasses  in  the  kitchen,  becomes  of  more 
consideration  and  importance  than  him.  He  has 
nothing  for  it  but  to  abdicate,  and  run  from  an  evil 
which  he  can  neither  prevent  nor  mollify. 

*  The  husband  gone,  the  ceremony  begins.  The  walls 
are  in  a  few  minutes  stripped  of  their  furniture  ; 
paintings,  prints,  and  looking-glasses,  lie  in  a  huddled 
heap  about  the  floors ;  the  curtains  are  torn  from  the 
testers,  the  beds  crammed  into  the  windows;  chairs 
arid  tables,  bedsteads  and  cradles,  crowd  the  yard  ; 
end  the  garden-fence  bends  beneath  the  weight  of 
carpets,  blankets,  cloth  cloaks,  old  coats,  and  ragged 
breeches.  Here  may  be  seen  the  lumber  of  the'kifc- 
ehen,  forming  a  dark  and  confused  mass:  for  the 

ore-ground  of  the  picture,  gridirons  and  frying  pans, 
rusty  shovels  and  broken  tongs,  spits  and  piws, 
and  the  fractured  remains  of  rush-bottomed  chairs. 
There  a  closet  has  disgorged  its  bowels,  cracked 
tumblers,  broken  wine-glasses,  phials  of  forgotten  ' 
physic,  papers  of  unknown  powders,  seeds  and  dried 
herbs,  handfuls  of  old  corks,  tops  of  tea-pots,  and 
stoppers  of  departed  decanters  ;  from  the  rag-hole  in 
the  garret  to  the  rat-hole  in  the  cellar,  no  place 


ASSAYS.  269 

escapes  un  rummaged  It  would  seem  as  if  the  day 
of  general  doom  was  come,  and  the  utensils  of  the 
house  were  dragged  forth  to  judgment.  In  this  tem 
pest  the  words  of  Lear  naturally  present  themselves, 
and  might,  with  some  alteration,  be  made  strictly 
applicable  : 

*•  Let  the  great  gods. 

That  keep  this  dreadful  pudder  o'er  our  heads, 
Find   out   their   en'mins   now.     Tremble,  thou 

wretch, 

That  hast  within  thee,  unrlivulged  crimes 
Unwhip'd  of  justice  "' — 

"  Close  pent-up  guilt, 

Raise  your  concealing  continent?,  and  ask 
These  dreadful  summoners  grace  1" 

This  ceremony  completed,  and  the  house  tho 
roughly  evacuated,  the  next  operation  is  to  smear  the 
walls  and  ceilings  of  every  room  and  closet  with 
brushes  dipped  in  a  solution  of  lime  called  white 
wash  to  pour  buckets  of  water  over  every  four,  and 
scraton  all  the  partitions  and  wainscots  with  rough 
brushes  wet  with  soap-suds,  and  dipped  in  stone 
cutter's  sand.  The  windows  by  no  means  escape 
the  general  deluge.  A  servant  scrambles  out  upon 
the  pent-nouse,  at  the  risk  of  her  neck,  and  with  a 
mug  in  her  hand,  and  a  bucket  within  reach,  she 
dashes  away  innumerable  gallons  of  water  against 
the  glass  panes  ;  to  the  great  annoyance  of  the  pas 
sengers  in  the  street. 

I  have  been  told  that  an  action  at  law  was  onca 
brought  against  one  of  these  water-nymphs  by  a  per 
son  who  had  a  new  suit  of  clothes  spoiled  by  thin 
operation  ;  but  after  long  argument,  it  was  det^rmin 
ed  by  the  whole  court,  that  the  action  would  not  lie, 
inasmuch  as  the  defendant  was  in  the  exercise  of  a 
legal  right,  and  riot  answerable  for  the  consequences ; 
and  so  the  poor  gentleman  was  doubly  non  suited  \ 


270  ESSAYS. 

for  he  lost  not  only  his  suit  of  clothes,  but  his  suit  at 
law. 

These  smearings  and  scratchings,  washings  and 
dashings,  being  duly  per/ormed,  the  next  ceremonial 
is  to  cleanse  and  replace  the  distracted  furniture. 
You  may  have  seen  a  house  raising,  or  a  ship-launch, 
when  all  the  hands  within  reach  are  collected  to 
gether  :  recollect  if  you  can  the  hurry,  bustle,  confu 
sion,  and  noise  of  such  a  scene,  and  you  will  have 
«iome  idea  of  this  cleaning  match.  The  misfortune 
is,  that  the  sole  object  is  to  make  things  clean ;  it 
matters  not  how  many  useful,  ornamental,  or  valua 
ble  articles  are  mutilated,  or  suffer  death  under  the 
operation  ;  a  mahogany  chair  and  carved  frame  un 
dergo  the  same  discipline;  they  are  to  be  made 
clean  at  all  events ;  but  their  preservation  is  not  wor 
thy  of  attention.  For  instance  a  fine  large  engraving 
is  laid  flat  upon  the  floor ;  smaller  prints  are  piled 
upon  it,  and  the  superincumbent  weight  cracks  the 
glasses  of  the  lower  tier  ;  but  this  is  of  no  consequence. 
A  valuable  picture  is  placed  leaning  against  the 
sharp  corner  of  a  table;  others  are  made  to  lean 
against  that,  until  the  pressure  of  the  whole  forcei 
the  corner  of  the  table  through  the  canvass  of  the 
first.  The  frame  and  glass  of  a  fine  print  are  to  be 
cleaned,-  the  spirit  and  oil  used  on  this  occasion 
are  suffered  to  leak  through  and  spoil  the  engraving ; 
no  matter,  if  the  glass  is  clean,  and  the  frame  shine, 
it  is  sufficient ;  the  rest  is  not  worthy  of  consideration. 
An  able  Arithmetician  has  made  an  accurate  calcu 
lation,  founded  on  long  experience,  and  has  discover 
ed,  that  the  losses  and  destruction  incident  to  two 
white-washings  are  equal  to  one  removal,  and  thre* 
removals  equal  to  one  fire. 

The  cleaning  frolic  over,  matters  begin  to  resume 
their  pristine  appearance.  The  storm  abates,  and  all 
would  be  well  again,  but  it  is  impossible  that  so  great 
a  convulsion,  in  so  small  a  community,  should  not 
produce  some  farther  effects.  For  two  or  three  - 
weeks  after  the  operation  the  family  are  usually 
afflicted  with  sore  throats  or  sore  eyes,  occasioned 
by  the  caustic  quality  of  the  lime,  or  with  severe 


ESSAYS.  271 

colds  from  the  exhalations  of  wet  floors  or  damp 
walls. 

I  know  a  gentleman,  who  was  fond  of  accounting 
for  every  thing  in  a  philosophical  way  He  considers 
this,  which  i  have  called  a  custom,  a  real  periodical 
disease,  peculiar  to  the  climate.  His  train  of  reason 
ing  is  ingenuious  and  whimsical ;  but  I  am  not  at 
leisure  to  give  you  a  detail.  The  result  was,  tnat  he 
found  the  distemper  to  be  incurable ;  but  after  much 
•tudy  he  conceived  he  had  discovered  a  method  (9 
divert  the  evil  he  could  not  subdue.  For  this  pur. 
pose  he  caused  a  small  building,  about  twelve  feet 
square,  to  be  erected  in  his  garden,  and  furnished 
with  some  ordinary  chairs  and  tables;  and  a  few 
prints  of  the  cheapest  sort  were  hung  against  the 
walls.  His  hope  was,  that  when  tiie  white-washing 
frenzy  seized  the  females  of  his  family,  they  might 
repair  to  this  apartment,  and  scrub,  and  smear,  and 
scour,  to  their  heart's  content ;  and  to  spend  the  vio 
lence  of  the  disease  in  this  out-post,  while  he  enjoyed 
himself  in  qui&t  at  head-quarters.  But  the  experi 
ment  did  not  answer  his  expectation ;  it  was  impos 
sible  it  should,  since  &  principal  part  of  the  gratifica 
tion  consists  in  the  lady  having  an  uncontrolled  right 
to  torment  her  husband  at  least  once  a  year,  and  to 
turn  him  out  of  doors,  and  take  the  reigns  of  govern 
ment  into  her  own  hands. 

There  is  a  much  better  contrivance  than  this  oi 
the  philosopher's;  which  is,  to  cover  the  walls  of  the 
house  with  paper:  this  is  generally  done;  and, 
though  it  cannot  abolish,  it  at  least  shortens  the 
period  of  female  dominion.  The  paper  is  decorated 
with  flowers  of  various  fancies,  and  made  so  orna- 
ir.ental,  that  the  women  have  admitted  the  fashion 
without  perceiving  the  design. 

There  is  also  another  alleviation  of  the  husband'* 
distress ;  he  generally  has  the  privilege  of  a  small 
Kcom  or  closet  for  his  books  and  papers,  xhe  key  oJ 
w.hich  he  is  allowed  to  keep.  „  This  is  considered  as 
a  privileged  place,  and  stands  like  the  land  of  Goshen 
amid  the  plagues  of  Egypt.  But  then  he  must  be  ex 
tremely  caution,  and  ever  on  his  guard;  for  should 


J7i  ESSAYS. 

he  inadvertently  go  abroad  an  J  leave  the  key  fa  \ii 
door,  the  housemaid,  who  is  always  on  the  watch  fcr 
tsuch  an  opportunity,  immediately  enters  in  triumph 
with  buckets,  brooms,  and  brushes:  takes  possession 
of  the  premises,  and  forthwith  puts  all  his  hooks  and 
papers  to  rights — to  his  utter  confusion,  and  some 
times  serious  detriment.  For  instance  : 

A  gentleman  was  sued  by  the  executors  of  a  trades 
man,  on  a  charge  found  against  him  in  the  deceased* 
books,  to  the  amount  of  30Z.  The  defendant  wa 
strongly  impressed  with  an  idea  that  he  had  discharg. 
ed  the  debt  and  taken  a  receipt ;  but  as  the  trans 
action  was  of  long  standing,  he  knew  not  where  to 
find  the  receipt.  The  suit  went  on  in  course,  and 
the  time  approached  when  judgment  would  be  obtain* 
ed  against  him.  He  then  sat  seriously  down  to  ex 
amine  a  large  bundle  of  oid  papers,  which  he  had 
untied  and  displayed  ou  a  table  for  that  pursose.  In 
the  midst  of  his  search,  he  was  suddenly  called  away 
on  business  of  importance;  he  forgot  to  lock  the 
door  of  his  room.  The  housemaid,  who  had  been 
long  looking  out  for  such  an  opportunity,  immedi 
ately  entered  with  the  usual  irrplements,  and  with 
great  alacrity  fell  to  cleaning  the  room,  and  putting 
things  to  rights.  The  first  object  that  struck  her  eye 
was  the  confused  situation  of  the  papers  on  the  table; 
these  were  without  delay  bundled  together  like  so 
many  dirty  knives  and  forks;  but  in  the  action  a  small 
piece  of  paper  fell  unnoticed  on  the  floor,  which  hap 
pened  to  be  the  very  receipt  in  question  :  as  it  had 
no  very  respectable  appearance,  it  was  soon  after 
swept  out  with  the  common  dirt  of  the  room,  and 
carried  in  a  rubbish-pan  into  the  yard.  The  trades- 
nan  had  neglected  to  enter  the  credit  in  his  book; 
lie  defendant  could  find  nothing  to  obviate  the 
charge,  and  so  judgment  went  against  him  for  the 
debt  and  costs.  A  fortnight  after  the  whole  was 
settled,  and  the  money  paid,  one  of  the  children 
found  the  receipt  among  the  rubbish  in  the  yard. 

There  is  also  another  custom  peculiar  to  the  city 
of  Philadelphia,  and  nearly  allied  to  the  former.  I 
mean  that  of  washing  the  pavement  before  the  doors 
every  Saturday  evening.  I  at  first  took  this  to  be  a 


ESSAYS.  2?3 

regulation  of  the  police ;  but,  on  further  inquiry, 
find  it  is  a  religious  rite,  preparatory  to  the  sabbath ; 
nnd  is,  I  i relieve,  the  only  religious  rite  in  which  ihe 
numerous  sectaries  of  this  city  perfectly  agree.  The 
ceremony  begins  about  sun-set,  and  continues  tili 
about  ten  or  eleven  at  night.  It  is  very  difficult  for 
a  stranger  to  walk  the  streets  on  those  evenings ;  he 
runs  a  continual  risk  of  having  a  bucket  of  dirty 
water  thrown  against  his  legs ;  but  a  Philadelphia!! 
h>rn,  is  so  much  accustomed  to  the  danger,  that  h 

voids  it  with  surprising  dexterity,  it  is  from  this 
circumstance  that  a  Philadelphia!!  may  be  known 
any  where  by  his  gait.  The  streets  of  New  York  are 
paved  with  rough  stones;  these  indeed  are  not 
washed,  but  the  dirt  is  so  thoroughly  swept  from  be 
fore  the  doors,  that  the  stones  stand  up  sharp  and 
prominent,  to  the  great  inconvenience  of  those  who 
are  not  accustomed  to  so  rough  a  path.  But  habit 
reconciles  every  thing.  It  is  diverting  enough  to  see 
a  Philadelphia*!  at  New  York ;  he  walks  the  streets 
with  as  much  painful  caution,  as  if  his  toes  were 
covered  with  corns,  or  his  feet  lamed  with  the  gout; 
>  nile  a  New  Yorker,  as  little  approving  the  plain 
masonry  of  Philadelphia,  shuffles  along  the  pave 
ment  like  a  parrot  on  a  mahogany  table. 

It  must  be  acknowledged,  that  the  ablutions  I  have 
mentioned  are  attended  with  no  small  inconvenience; 
but  the  women  would  not  be  induced,  from  any  con 
sideration,  to  resign  their  privilege.  Notwithstand 
ing  this,  I  can  give  you  the  strongest  assurances, 
that  the  women  of  America  make  the  most  faithftil 
wives  and  the  most  attentive  mothers  in  the  world ; 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  join  me  in  opinion,  that  if  a 

narried  man  is  made  miserable  only  one  week  in  a 
whole  year,  he  will  have  no  great  causi  to  complain 
of  the  matrimonial  bond. 

lam,  &c. 


*74  ESSAYS. 

ANSWER  TO  THE  ABOVE. 
In  the  Character  of  a  Lady;  but  really  by 

TEE   SAME  HAND. 


I  HAVK  lately  see*/  a  letter  upon  the  sebject  oi 
whitewashing  in  which  that  necessary  duty  of  & 
good  hoube-wife  is  treated  with  unmerited  ridicule. 
I  should  prcbabfy  have  forgot  the  foolish  thing  by 
this  time;  but  the  season  coming  on  which  most 
women  think  suitable  for  cleansing  their  apartments 
from  smoke  and  dirt  of  the  winter,  I  find  this  saucy 
author  dished  up  in  every  family,  and  his  flippant 
performance  quoted  wherever  a  wife  attempts  to 
exercise  her  reasonable  prerogative,  or  execute  the 
duties  of  her  station.  Women  generally  employ  their 
time  to  better  purposes  than  scribbling.  The  cares 
and  comforts  of  a  family  rest  principally  upon  their 
shoulders;  hence  it  is  that  there  are  but  few  female 
authors ;  and  the  men,  knowing  how  necessary  our 
attentions  are  to  their  happiness,  take  every  opportu 
nity  of  discouraging  literary  accomplishments  in  the 
fair  sex.  You  hear  it  echoed  from  every  quarter. — 

My  wife  cannot  make  verses,  it  is  true;  but  sha 
nakes  an  exceMent  pudding ;  she  can't  correct  tha 
press,  but  she  can  correct  her  children,  and  scolds  her 
servants  with  admirable  discretion :  she  can't  unravel 
the  intricacies  of  political  economy  and  federal  go 
vernment  ;  but  she  can  knit  charming  stockings.'— 
And  this  they  call  praising  a  wife,  and  doing  jusliof 
to  her  character,  with  much  nonsense  of  the  Lik* 
kind. 


ESSAYS.  275 

I  say,  women  generally  employ  their  time  to  much 
better  purposes  than  scribbling ;  otherwise  this  face 
tious  writer  had  not  gone  so  long  unanswered.  We 
have  ladies  who  sometimes  lay  down  the  needle,  and 
take  up  the  pen ;  I  wonder  none  of  them  have  at 
tempted  some  reply.  For  my  part,  I  do  not  pretend 
to  be  an  author.  I  never  appeared  in  print  in  my 
life,  but  I  can  no  longer  forbear  saying  something  in 
answer  to  such  impertinence,  circulate  how  it  may 
Only,  sir,  consider  our  situation.  Men  are  naturally 
inattentive  to  the  decencies  of  life ;  but  why  should  f 
be  so  complaisant?  I  say,  they  are  naturally  filthy  k 
creatures.  If  it  were  not  that  their  co.^exion  with 
the  refined  sex  polished  their  manners,  and  had  a 
happy  influence  on  the  general  economy  of  life,  these 
lords  of  the  creation  would  wallow  in  filth,  and  po 
pulous  cities  would  infect  the  atmosphere  with  their 
noxious  vapours.  It  is  ihc  attention  ai.d  assiduity 
of  the  women  that  prevent  men  from  degenerating 
into  mere  swine.  Ho\r  important  then  are  the  ser 
vices  we  render ;  and  yet  for  these  very  services  we 
are  made  the  subject  of  ridicule  and  fun.  Base  in 
gratitude  '  Nauseous  creatures !  Perhaps  you  may 
think  I  am  in  a  passion.  No,  Sir,  I  do  assure  you  I 
never  was  more  composed  in  my  life,  and  yet  it  is 
enough  to  provoke  a  saint  to  see  how  unreasonably 
we  are  treated  by  the  men.  Why  now,  there's  my 
husband — a  good-enough  sort  of  a  man  in  the  main— 
but  I  will  give  you  a  sample  of  him.  He  comes  into 
the  parlour  the  other  the  day,  where,  to  be  sure,  I 
was  cutting  up  a  piece  of  linen.  *•  Lord  !"  says  he, 
**  what  a  flutter  here  is !  I  can't  bear  to  see  the  par 
lour  look  like  a  tailor's  shop  :  besides,  I  am  going  t 
make  some  important  philosophical  experiments 
and  must  have  sufficient  room."  You  must  know 
my  husband  is  one  of  your  would-be  philosophers 
VVell,  I  bundled  up  my  linen  as  quick  as  1  could,  and 
began  to  darn  a  pair  of  ruflles,  which  took  no  room, 
and  could  give  no  offence.  I  thought,  however,  ( 
would  watch  my  lord  and  master's  important  busi 
ness.  In  about  half  an  hour  the  table  was  covered 
with  all  manner  of  trumpery  5  bottles  of  water,  phiaji 


276  ESSAYS 

of  drags,  pasteboards,  paper  and  cards,  glue,  paste, 
and  gum-arabic ;  files,  knives,  scissors,  needles,  ro 
sin,  wax,  silk,  thread,  rags,  jags,  tags,  books,  pamph 
lets,  and  papers.  Lord  bless  me  !  I  am  almost  out 
of  breath,  and  yet  I  have  not  enumerated  half  the 
articles.  Well,  to  work  he  went,  and  although  I  did 
not  understand  the  object  of  his  manoeuvres,  yet  1 
could  sufficiently  discover  that  he  did  not  succeed  in 
any  one  operation.  I  was  glad  of  that,  I  confess, 
and  with  good  reason  too :  for,  after  he  had  fatigued 
himself  with  mischief,  like  a  monkey  in  a  china-shop, 
and  had  ca^ed  the  servants  to  clear  every  thing 
away,  I  took  a  view  of  the  scene  my  parlour  exhibit 
ed.  I  shall  not  even  attempt  a  minute  description  ; 
suffice  it  to  say,  that  he  had  overset  his  ink-stand,  and 
stained  my  best  mahogany  table  with  ink ;  he  had 
spilt  a  quantity  of  vitriol,  and  burnt  a  large  hole  in 
my  carpet :  my  marble  hearth  was  all  over  spotted 
with  melted  rosin :  besides  this,  he  had  broken  threo 
china  cups,  four  wine  glasses,  two  tumblers,  and  one 
of  my  handsomest  decanters.  And,  after  all,  as  I 
said  before,  I  perceived  that  he  had  not  succeeded  in 
a^y  one  operation.  By  the  bye,  tell  your  friend,  the 
white-wash  scribbler,  that  this  is  one  means  by  which 
our  closets  become  furnished  with  halves  of  china 
bowls,  cracked  tumblers,  broken  wine-glasses,  tops 
of  tea-pots,  and  stoppers  of  departed  decanters.  I 
say,  I  took  a  view  of  the  dirt  and  devastation  my 
philosophic  husband  had  occasioned;  and  there  I 
sat,  like  Patience  on  a  monument,  smiling  at  grief; 
but  it  worked  inwardly.  I  woul  *  almost  as  soon  the 
melted  rosin  and  vitriol  had  been  in  his  throat,  as  on 
my  dear  marble  hearth,  and  my  beautiful  carpet 
It  is  not  true  that  women  have  no  power  over  their 
own  feelings ;  for  notwithstanding  this  provocation, 
I  said  nothing,  or  next  to  nothing  :  for  1  only  observ 
ed,  very  pleasantly,  what  a  lady  of  my  acquaintance 
had  told  me  that  the  reason  why  philosophers  are 
called  literary  men,  is  because  they  make  a  great 
litter:  not  a  word  more  :  however,  the  servant  clear 
ed  away,  and  down  sat  the  philosopher.  A  friend 
dropped  in  soon  after—"  Your  servant,  Sir,  how  do 


ESSAYS.  m 

fou  do  ?"  "  O  Lord '  I  am  almost  fatigued  to  d*^L. 
I  have  been  all  the  morning  making  philosophical 
experiments."  I  was  novy  more  hardly  put  to  it  to 
smother  a  laugh,  than  I  had  been  just  before  to  con 
tain  my  rage  ;  my  precious  went  out  soon  after,  and 
I,  as  you  may  suppose,  mustered  ail  my  forces- 
brushes,  buckets,  soap,  sand,  limeskins  and  cocoa- 
nut  shells,  with  all  the  powers  of  housewifery,  were 
immediately  employed.  I  was  certainly  the  best 
philosopher  of  the  two  ;  for  my  experiments  succeed 
ed,  and  his  did  not  All  was  well  again,  excep* 
my  poor  carpet — my  vitriolized  carpet,  which  stifl 
continued  a  mournful  momento  of  philosophic  fury, 
or  rather  philosophic  folly.  The  operation  wart 
scarce  over,  when  in  came  my  experimental  philo 
sopher,  and  told  me,  with  all  the  indifference  in  th« 
world,  that  he  had  invited  six  gentlemen  to  dinu 
with  him  at  three  o'clock.  Jt  was  then  past  one. 
I  complained  of  the  short  notice ;  "  Poh  !  poh !" 
said  he,  "  you  can  get  a  leg  of  mutton,  and  a  loin  of 
veal,  and  a  few  potatoes,  which  will  do  well  enough.** 
Heavens !  what  a  chaos  n.ust  the  head  of  a  philo 
sopher  be  !  a  leg  of  mutton,  a  loin  ef  veal  and  pota 
toes  !  I  was  at  a  loss  whether  I  should  laugh  or  be 
angry ;  but  there  was  no  time  for  determining :  1 
had  but  an  hour  and  a  half  to  do  a  world  of  business 
in.  My  carpet,  which  had  suffered  in  the  cause  of 
experimental  philosophy  in  the  morning,  was  des 
tined  to  be  more  shamefully  dishonoured  in  tho 
afternoon  by  a  deluge  of  nasty  tobacco  juice. — 
Gentlemen  smokers  love  segars  better  than  car 
pets.  Think,  Sir,  what  a  women  must  endure  under 
luch  circumstances;  and  then,  after  all,  to  be 're 
proached  with  her  cleanliness,  and  to  have  her 
white-washings,  her  scourings,  and  scrubbings 
made  the  subject  of  ridicule,  it.  is  more  than  ^pa 
tience  can  put  up  with.  What  I  have  now  exhib 
ited  is  but  a  small  specimen  of  the  injuries  v  e  sus 
tain  from  the  boasted  superiority  of  men.  But 
we  will  not  be  laughed  out  of  our  cleanliness.  A 
woman  would  rather  be  called  any  thih^  'd 


278  ESSAYS. 

as  a  man  would  ratfter  be  thought  a  knave  than  a 
fool.  I  had  a  great  deal  more  to  say,  but  am  called 
away;  we  are  just  preparing  to  white-wash,  and  of 
course  I  have  a  deal  of  business  on  my  hands.  The 
white-wash  buckets  are  paraded,  the  brushes  are 
ready,  my  husband  is  gone  off — so  much  the  better; 
when  we  are  upon  a  thorough  cleaning,  the  first 
dirty  thing  to  be  removed  is  one's  husband.  I  am 
ailed  for  again 

Adieu. 


ESSAfS.  *79 


FINAL  SPEECH  OF  DR.  FRANKLIN  IN  THE 
LATE  FEDERAL  CONVENTION.* 

MR.   PRESIDENT, 

I  CONFESS  that  I  do  not  entirely  approve  of  this 
constitution  at  present ;  but,  Sir,  I  am  not  sure  I 
shall  never  approve  it ;  for  having  lived  long,  I 
have  experienced  many  instances  of  being  obliged, 
by  better  information,  or  fuller  consideration,  to 
change  opinions  even  on  important  subjects,  which 
I  once  thought  right,  but  found  to  be  otherwise.  It 
is,  therefore,  that  the  older  I  grow,  the  more  apt  I 
am  to  doubt  my  own  judgment,  and  to  pay  more 
respect  to  the  judgment  of  others.  Most  men,  in 
deed,  as  well  as  most  sects  in  religion,  think  them 
selves  in  possession  of  all  truth,  and  that  whenever 
others  differ  from  them,  it  is  so  far  error.  Steel,  a 
protestant,  in  a  dedication  tells  the  pope,  that,  "  the 
only  difference  between  our  two  churches,  in  their 
opinions  of  the  certainty  of  their  doctrines,  is,  tho 
Romish  church  is  infallible,  and  the  church  of 
England  never  in  the  wrong."  But,  though  many 
private  persons  think  almost  as  highly  of  their  own 
infallibility  as  that  of  their  sect,  few  express  it  so 
naturally  as  a  certain  Frtnch  lady,  who,  in  a  little 
dispute  with  her  sister,  said,  "  I  don't  know  it 
happens,  sister,  but  I  meet  with  nobody  but  myself 
lhat  is  always  in  the  righf."  II  n'y  a  que  mot  qui  a 
tonjours  raison.  In  these  sentiments,  Sir,  I  agree 
to  this  constitution,  with  all  its  faults,  if  they  are 


*  Our  reasons  for  ascribing  this  speech  to  Dr.  Franklin,  are  iu 
fcteroal  evidence,  and  iti  baring  appeared  with  hit  name  dVinf  h4« 
lA-time  uncoutradicted,  in  an  American  periodical  publication. 


2SO  ESSAYS. 

such ;  because  I  think  a  general  government  neces 
sary  for  us,  and  there  is  no  form  of  government  but 
what  may  be  a  blessing,  if  well  administered ;  and 
I  believe,  farther,  that  this  is  likely  to  be  well  ad 
ministered  for  a  course  of  years,  and  can  only  end  in 
despotism,  as  other  forms  have  done  before  it,  when 
the  people  shall  become  so  corrupted  as  to  need  des 
potic  government,  being  incapable  of  any  other.  I 
doubt  too,  whether  any  other  convention  we  can  ob 
tain,  may  be  able  to  make  a  better  constitution  :  for 
v/hen  you  assemble  a  number  of  men,  to  have  tha 
advantage  of  their  joint  wisdom,  you  inevitably  as 
semble  with  those  men  all  their  prejudices,  their  pas 
sions,  their  errors  of  opinion,  their  local  interests, 
and  their  selfish  views.  From  such  an  assembly  can 
a  perfect  production  be  expected?  It  therefore 
astonishes  me,  Sir,  to  find  this  system  approaching 
so  near  to  perfection  as  it  does ;  and  I  think  it  will 
astonish  our  enemies,  who  are  waiting  with  confi 
dence,  to  hear  that  our  councils  are  confounded,  like 
those  of  the  builders  of  Babylon,  and  that  our  States 
are  on  the  point  of  separation,  only  to  meet  hereafter 
for  the  purpose  of  cutting  each  other's  throats. 

Thus,  I  consent,  Sir,  to  this  constitution,  because  I 
expect  no  better,  and  because  I  am  not  sure  that  this 
is  not  the  best.  The  opinions  I  have  had  of  its  errors 
I  sacrifice  to  the  public  good.  I  have  never  whisper 
ed  a  syllable  of  them  abroad.  Within  these  walls 
they  were  born,  and  here  they  shall  die.  If  every 
r  one  of  us,  in  returning  to  our  constituents,  were  to 
report  the  objections  he  has  had  to  it,  and  endravour 
to  gain  partisans  in  support  of  them,  we  might  pre 
vent  its  being  generally  received,  and  thereby  lose  all 
the  salutary  effects  and  great  advantages  resulting 
naturally  in  our  favour  among  foreign  nations,  as 
well  as  among  ourselves,  from  our  real  or  apparent 
unanimity.  Much  of  the  strength  and  efficiency  of 
any  government,  in  procuring  and  securing  happiness 
to  the  people,  depends  on  opinion ;  on  the  general 
opinion  of  the  goodness  of  that  government,  as  well 
as  of  the  wisdom  and  integrity  of  its  governors. 

I  ho*pe,  therefore,  that  for  our  own  sakes,  as  a  part 
of  the  people,  and  for  the  sake  of  our  posterity,  we 


ESSAYS.  281 

•hall  act  heartily  and  unanimously  in  recommending 
this  constitution,  wherever  our  influence  may  extend, 
and  turn  our  future  thoughts  and  endeavours  to  the 
means  of  having  it  well  administered. 

On  the  whole  Sir,  I  cannot  help  expressing  a  wish, 
that  every  member  of  the  Convention,  who  may  still 
have  objections,  would  with  me,  on  this  occasion, 
ctoubt  a  little  of  his  own  infallibility,  and,  to  maka 
manifest  our  unanimity  put  his  name  to  this  instru 
nent. 

[The  motion  was  then  made  for  adding  the  las 
formula,  viz. 

Done  in  Convention,  by  the  unanimous  consent, 
&c.  which  was  agreed  to,  and  added  accordingly. 


PEEFERENCE  OF  BOWS  AND  ARROWS 
IN  WAR  TO  FIRE-ARMS. 

TO   MAJOR-GENERAL   LEE. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  11,  1776. 

DEAR  SIR, 

THE  bearer,  Mons.  Arundel,  is  directed  by  the  Con 
flrcss  to  repair  to  General  JSchuyler,  in  order  to  be 
employed  by  him  in  the  artillery  service.  He  proposes 
o  wait  on  you  in  his  way,  and  has  requested  me  to 
ntroduce  him  by  a  line  to  you.  He  has  been  ai 
officer  in  the  French  service,  as  you  will  see  by  hi 
commissions ;  and,  professing  a  good  will  to  our 
cause,  I  hope  he  may  be  useful  in  instructing  our 
gunners  and  matrosses:  perhaps  he  may  advise  in 
opening  the  nailed  cannon. 

I  received  the  inclosed  the  other  day  from  an  offi 
cer,  Mr.  Newland,  who  served  in  the  two  last  wars, 
and  was  known  by  General  Gates,  who  spoke  well  ol 


182  ESSAYS. 

him  to  me  when  I  was  at  Cambridge.  He  is  desir 
dus  now  of  entering  into  your  service.  I  have  ad 
vised  him  to  wait  upon  you  at  New  York. 

They  still  talk  big  in  England,  and  threaten  hard 
but  their  language  is  somewhat  civiller,  at  least  nol 
quite  so  disrespectful  to  us.     By  degrees  they  com* 
to  their  senses,  but  too  late,  1  fancy,  for  their  in 
terest 

We  have  got  a  large  quantity  of  saltpetre,  on 
hundred  and  twenty  ton,  and  thirty  more  expected 
Powder  mills  are  now  wanting ;  I  believe  we  mug 
set  to  work  and  make  it  by  hand.  But  I  still  wish, 
with  you,  that  pikes  could  be  introduced,  and  1 
would  add  bows  and  arrows :  these  were  good  wea 
pons,  and  not  wisely  laid  aside. 

1.  Because  a  man  may  shoot  as  truly  with  a  bow 
as  with  a  common  musket. 

2.  He  can  discharge  four  arrows  in  the  time  ol 
charging  and  discharging  one  bullet. 

3.  His  object  is  not  taken  from  his  view  by  the 
smoke  of  his  own  side. 

4.  A  flight  of  arrows  seen  coming  upon  them  terri 
fies  and  disturbs  the  enemy's  attention  to  his  business. 

5.  An  arrow  sticking  in  any  part  of  a  man,  puts  him 
hors  du  combat  till  it  is  extracted. 

6.  Bows  and   arrows  are   more  easily  provided 
every  where  than  muskets  and  ammunition. 

Polydore  Virgil,  speaking  of  cne  of  our  batile* 
against  the  French  in  Edward  the  Third's  reign, 
«l  mentions  the  great  confusion  the  enemy  was  thrown 
into  sagittarum  nw6e,  from  the  English;  and  con 
clude?,  *'  Est  res  pro  fee  to  dictu  mirabilis  ut  tantus  ac 
poteiis  exercitus  a  solis  fere  Anglicis  sagittariis  victua 
fuerit ;  adeo  Anglus  est  sagittipotens,  et  id  genus  ar 
morum  valet."  If  so  much  execution  was  done  by 
arrows  when  men  wore  some  defensive  armour,  i>ow 
much  more  might  be  done  now  that  it  is  out  of  use ! 

I  am  glad  you  are  come  to  New  Yark,  but  I  also 
wish  you  could  be  in  Canada.  There  is  a  kind  of 
suspense  in  men's  minds  here  at  present,  waiting  to 
see  what  terms  will  be  offered  from  England.  I  ex 
pect  none  that  we  can  accept ;  and  when  that  is  ge 
nerally  seen,  we  shall  be  more  unanimous  and  mora 


ESSAYS.  283 

decisive:  theft  your  proposed  solemn  league  and 
covenant  will  go  better  down,  and  perhaps  most  of 
our  other  strong  measures  be  adopted. 
*.  I  am  always  glad  to  hear  from  you,  but J.  do  not 
deserve  your  favours,  being  so  bad  a  correspondent. 
My  eyes  wiiJ  now  hardly  serve  me  to  write  by  night, 
and  these  short  days  have  been  all  taken  up  by  such 
variety  of  business  that  I  seldom  can  sit  down  ten 
ninutos  without  interruption,  God  give  you  success1 

I  am,  with  the  greatest  esteem, 
Yours  affectionately, 

B.  FRANKLIN 


Ol\    I  dfi  THEORY  OF  THE  EARTH. 

TO  ABBE  80ULIAVE. 

Passy,  September  22,  1782. 

SIR, 

1  BETUUN  the  papers  with  some  corrections.  I  dhi 
not  hnd  coal  mines,  under  the  calcareous  rock  in 
Derbyshire. — 1  only  remarked,  that  at  the  lowest 
part  of  that  rocky  mountain,  which  was  in  sight, 
there  were  oyster  shells  mixed  with  the  §tone;-and 
part  of  the  high  country  of  Derby  being  probably  at 
iruch  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  as  the  coal  mines  ol 
YVhitehaven  were  below,  it  seemed  a  proof  that  there 
had  been  a  great  bouieversement  in  the  surface  ol 
that  island,  some  part  of  it  having  been  depressed  un 
der  the  sea,  ard  other  parts,  which  had  been  under 
it,  being  raised  above  it.  Such  changes  in  the  super 
ficial  parts  of  the  globe  seemed  to  me  unlikely  to  hap 
pen,  if  the  earth  were  solid  at  the  centre. 


«d4  ESSAYS. 

*  >re  imagined  that  the  internal  parts  might  be  a  fluid 
ruore  dense,  and  of  greater  specific  gravity  than  any 
(  f  the  solids  we  are  acquainted  with ;  which  there 
fore  might  swim  in  or  upon  that  fluid.  Thus  the  sur 
liice  of  the  globe  would  be  a  shell,  capable  of  being 
woken  and  disordered  by  the  violent  movements 
)f  fluid  on  which  it  rested.  And,  as  air  has  been 
compressed  by  art  so  as  to  be  twice  as  dense  as  wa 
ter,  in  which  case,  if  such  air  and  water  could  te 
contained  in  a  strong  glass  vessel,  the  air  would  ta 
seen  to  take  the  lowest  place,  and  the  water  to  floa 
above  and  upon  it ;  and,  as  we  know  not  yet  the  de 
gree  of  density  to  which  air  may  be  compressed,  and 
M.  Amontons  calculated,  that,  its  density  increasing 
as  it  approached  the  centre  in  the  same  proportion  as 
above  the  surface,  it  would  at  the  depth  of  leagues, 
be  heavier  than  gold,  possibly  the  dense  fluid  occu 
pying  the  internal  parts  of  the  globe  might  be  air 
compressed.  And  as  the  force  of  expansion  in  dense 
air  when  heated,  is  in  proportion  to  its  density  ;  this 
central  air  might  aflord  another  agent  to  move  the 
surface,  as  well  as  be  of  use  in  keeping  alive  the  cen~ 
tral  fires ;  though,  as  you  observe,  the  sudden  rare 
faction  of  water,  coming  into  contact  with  those  fires, 
may  be  an  agent  sufficiently  strong  for  that  purpose, 
when  acting  between  the  incumbent  and  the  fluid  on 
which  it  rests. 

If  one  might  indulge  imagination  in  supposing 
how  such  a  globe  was  formed,  I  should  conceive, 
that  all  the  elements  in  separate  particles,  being  ori 
ginally  mixed  in  confusion,  and  occupying  a  great 
space,  they  would  as  soon  (as  soon  as  the  Almighty 
fiat  ordained  gravity,  or  the  mutual  attraction  of  CCF- 
ain  parts,  and  the  mutual  repulsion  of  other  parts,  to 
xist)  all  move  towards  their  common  centre :  tha 
the  air  being  a  fluid  whose  parts  repel  each  other 
though  drawn  to  the  common  centre  by  their  gravity, 
would  be  densest  towards  the  centre,  and  rarer  as 
more  remote ;  consequently,  all  bodies,  lighter  than 
the  central  parts  of  that  air,  and  immersed  in  it,  would 
recede  from  the  centre,  an ,\  rise  till  they  arrive  at  that 
region  of  the  air,  which  was  of  the  same  specific  gra 
vity  with  themselves,  where  they  would  rest ;  while 


ESSAYS.  283 

other  matter  mixed  with  the  lighter  air,  would  descend, 
and  the  two,  meeting,  would  form  the  shell  of  the  first 
earth,  leaving  the  upper  atmosphere  nearly  clear. 
The  original  movement  of  the  parts  towards  their 
common  centre  would  form  a  whirl  there;  which 
would  continue  in  the  turning  of  the  new-formed  globe 
upon  its  axis,  and  the  greatest  diameter  of  the  shell 
would  be  in  its  equator.  If  by  any  accident  after 
wards  the  »xis  should  be  changed,  the  dense  internal 
fluid,  by  altering  its  form,  must  burst  the  shell,  and 
throw  all  <it  substance  into  the  confusion  in  which  w 
find  it.  A  will  not  trouble  you  at  present  with  my 
fancies  cc&cerning  the  manner  of  forming  the  rest  of 
our  system.  Superior  beings  smile  on  our  theories, 
and  at  our  presumption  in  making  them.  I  will  just 
mention  that  your  observation  of  the  ferruginous  na 
ture  of  the  lava,  which  Is  thrown  out  from  the  depths 
of  our  volcanoes,  gave  me  great  pleasure.  It  has 
long  been  a  supposition  of  mine,  that  the  iron  con 
tained  in  the  substance  of  the  globe  has  made.it  capa 
ble  of  becoming,  as  it  is,  a  great  magnet ;  that  the 
fluid  of  magnetism  exists  perhaps  in  all  space ;  so 
that  there  is  a  magnetical  North  and  South  of  the  uni 
verse,  as  well  as  of  this  globe;  and  thai  if  it  were 
possible  for  a  man  to  fly  from  star  to  stir,  he  might 
govern  his  course  by  the  compass;  that  it  was  by  the 
I>ower  of  this  general  magnetism  this  globe  be,  ame  a 
particular  magnet.  In  soft  or  hot  iron  ih*  fluid  of 
magnetism  is  naturally  diffused  equally ;  whtn  with 
in  the  influence  of  a  magnet,  it  is  drawn  to  OiW  end  of 
the  iron,  made  denser  there  and  rarer  at  the  other. 
While  the  iron  continues  soft  and  hot,  it  is  only  a 
temporary  magnet :  if  it  cools  or  grows  hard  in  tha» 
situation,  it  becomes  a  permanent  one,  the  magnetic 
fluid  not  easily  resuming  its  equilibrium.  Perhap 
it  may  be  owing  to  the  permanent  magnetism  of  thii 
globe,  which  it  had  not  at  first,  that  its  axis  is  at  pr» 
sent  kept  parallel  to  itself,  and  notliable  to  the  changei 
it  formerly  suffered,  which  occasioned  the  rupture  o< 
its  shell,  the  submersions  and  emersions  of  its  lands 
and  the  confusion  of  its  seasons.  The  present  polai 
and  equatorial  diameters  differing  from  each  othei 
near  ten  leagues,  it  is  easy  to  conceive,  in  case  somi 


286  ESSAYS. 

power  should  shift  the  axis  gradually,  and  place  U  in 
the  present  equator,  and  make  the  new  equator  pass 
through  the  present  poles,  what  a  sinking  of  the  wa 
ters  would  happen  in  the  present  equatorial  regions, 
and  what  a  rising  in  the  present  polar  regions ;  so  that 
vast  tracts  would  be  discovered  that  now  are  under 
water,  and  others  covered  that  now  are  dry,  the  water 
rising  and  sinking  in  the  differet  extremes  near  live 
leagues !  Such  an  operation  as  this  po?sibjy  occasion 
ed  much  of  Europe,  and,  among  the  rest,  of  thii 
mountain  of  Passy,  on  which  I  live,  and  which  is 
composed  of  limestone,  rock  and  sea  shells,  to  be 
abandoned  by  the  sea,  and  to  change  its  ancient  cli 
mate,  which  seems  to  have  been  a  hot  one.  The  globe 
being  now  become  a  perfect  magnet,  we  are  perhaps 
sale  from  any  future  change  of  its  axis.  But  we  are 
still  subject  to  the  accidents  'on  the  surface,  which 
are  occasioned  by  a  wave  in  the  internal  ponderous 
fluid :  and.  such  a  wave  is  produced  by  the  sudden 
violent  explosion  you  mention,  happening  from  the 
junction  of  water  and  fire  under  the  earth,  which  not 
only  lifts  the  incumbent  earth  that  is  over  the  explo 
sion,  but,  impressing  with  the  same  force  the  fluid 
under  it,  creates  a  wave  that  may  run  a  thousand 
leagues,  lifting,  and  thereby  shaking  successively,  all 
the  countries  under  which  it  passes.  I  know  not 
whether  I  have  expressed  myself  so  clearly,  as  not 
to  get  out  of  your  sight  in  these  reveries.  If  they 
occasion  any  new  inquiries,  and  produce  a  better 
*  hypothesif,  they  will  not  be  quite  useless.  You  set 
I  nave  given  a  loose  to  imagination,  but  I  approve 
much  more  your  method  of  philosophising,  which 
proceeds  upon  actual  observation,  makes  a  collectioi 
of  facts,  and  concludes  no  farther  than  those  facts  wil 
warrant.  In  my  present  circumstances,  that  mod 
of  studying  the  nature  of  the  globe  is  out  of  my  power 
and  therefore  I  have  permitted  myself  to  wander  » 
little  in  the  wilds  of  fancy.  With  great  esteem, ) 
bare  the  honour  to  be, 

Sir,  &c. 

15.  FJUNKLIN 


ESSAYS.  287 

P.  S.  I  have  heard  that  chemists  can  by  their 
art  decompose  stone  and  wood,  extracting  a  conside 
rable  quantity  of  water  from  the  one,  and  air  from 
the  other.  It  seems  natural  to  conclude  from  this, 
that  water  and  air  were  ingredients  in  their  original 
composition :  for  men  cannot  make  new  matter  of 
any  kind.  In  the  same  manner  do  we  not  suppose, 
that  when  w«  consume  combustibles  of  all  kinds, 
and  produce  heat  or  light,  we  do  not  .create  the  hea 
cr  light,  we  only  decompose  a  substance  which  re 
ceived  it  originally  as  a  part  of  its  composition. 
Heat  may  thus  be  considered  as  originally  in  a  flui 
state ;  but,  attracted  by  organized  bodies  in  their 
growth,  becomes  a  part  of  the  solid.  Besides  this, 
I  can  conceive  that,  in  the  first  assemblage  of  the 
particks  of  this  earth  is  composed,  each  brought  its 
portior  of  the  loose  heat  that  had  been  connected 
with  i  and  the  whole,  when  pressed  together,  pro 
duced  me  internal  fire  which  still  subsists. 


LOOSE  THOUGHTS  ON  THE  UNIVER 
SAL  FLUID,  &c. 

Passy,  June  25,  1784. 

UNIYERSAL  space,  as  for  as  we  know  of  it,  seems  t 
be  filled  with  a  subtle  fluid,  whose  motion,  or  vibra. 
ion,  is  called  light. 

This  fluid  may  possibly  be  the  same  with  that 
which,  being  attracted  by  and  entering  into  other 
more  solid  matter,  dilates  (he  substance,  by  sepa 
rating  the  constituent  particles,  and  so  rendering 
•ome  solids  fluid,  and  maintaining  the  fluidity  of 


«88  ttSSAYS 

others :  of  which  fluid  when  our  bodies  are  totally 
deprived,  they  are  said  to  be  frozen ;  when  they 
have  a  proper  quantity,  they  are  in  health,  and  fit 
to  perform  all  their  functions  \  it  is  then  called  natu 
ral  heat :  when  too  much,  it  is  called  fever ;  and 
when  forced  into  the  body  in  too  great  a  quantity 
from  without,  it  gives  pain  by  separating  and  des 
troying  the  flesh,  and  is  then  called  burning ;  and  th 
fluid  so  entering  and  acting  is  called  fire. 

While  organized  bodies,  animal  or  vegetable,  ar 
augmenting  in  growth,  or  are  supplying  their  con 
tinual  waste,  is  not  this  done  by  attracting  and  con 
golidating  this  fluid  called  fire,  so  as  to  form  of  it  a 
part  of  their  substance?  and  it  is  not  a  separation  of 
the  parts  of  such  substance,  which,  dissolving  its 
solid  state,  sets  that  subtle  fluid  at  liberty,  when  it 
again  makes  its  appearance  as  fire  ? 

For  the  power  of  a  man  relative  to  matter  seems 
limited  to  the  dividing  it,  or  mixing  the  various  kindi 
of  it,  or  changing  its  form  and  appearance  by  differ 
ing  compositions  of  it;  but  does  not  extend  to  thi 
making  or  creating  of  new  matter,  or  annihilating 
the  old  :  thus,  if  fire  be  an  original  element,  or  kind 
of  matter,  its  quantity  is  fixed  and  permanent  in  th< 
world.  We  cannot  destroy  any  part  of  it,  or  makt 
addition  to  it;  we  can  only  separate  it  from  that 
which  confines  it,  and  so  set  it  at  liberty,  as  when  we 
put  wood  in  a  situation  to  be  burnt ;  or  transfer  it 
from  one  solid  to  another,  as  when  we  make  lime  by 
burning  stone,  a  part  of  the  fire  dislodged  from  the 
wood  being  left  in  the  stone.  May  not  this  fluid, 
when  at  liberty,  be  capable  of  penetrating  and  enter 
ing  into  all  bodies,  organized  or  not ;  quitting  easilj 
n  totally  those  not  organized  ;  and  quitting  easily  it 
art  those  which  are ;  the  part  assumed  and  fixe<- 
remaining  till  the  body  is  dissolved  ? 

Is  it  not  this  fluid  which  keeps  asunder  the  parti 
cles  of  air,  permitting  them  to  approach,  or  separat* 
mg  them  more,  in  proportion  as  its  quantity  is  dimin 
ished  or  augmented  ?  Is  it  not  the  greater  gravity  of 
the^  particles  of  air,  which  forces  the  particles  of 


ESSAYS.  289 

this  fluid  to  mount  with  the  matters  to  which  it  is 
attached,  as  smoke  or  vapour? 

Does  it  not  seem  to  have  a  great  effinity  with 
water,  since  it  will  quit  a  solid  to  unite  with  that 
fluid,  and  go  off  with  it  in  vapour,  leaving  the  solid 
cold  to  the  touch,  and  the  degree  measurable  by  the 
thermometer  ? 

The  vapour  rises  attached  to  this  fluid  ;  but  at 
a  certain  height  they  separate,  and  the  vapour  de» 
cends  in  rain,  retaining  but  little  of  it,  in  snow  or 
hail  less.  What  becomes  of  that  fluid?  Does  it  riso 
above  our  atmosphere,  and  mix  equally  with  tho 
universal  mass  of  the  same  kind  ?  Or  does  a  spheri 
cal  stratum  of  it,  denser,  or  less  mixed  with  air,  at 
tracted  by  this  globe,  and  repelled  01  pushed  up  only 
to  a  certain  height  from  its  surface,  by  the  greater 
weight  of  air  remain  there  surrounding  the  globe, 
and  proceeding  with  it  round  the  sun? 

In  such  case,  as  there  may  be  a  continuity  or  com 
munication  of  this  fluid  through  the  air  quite  down  to 
Ihe  earth,  is  ii  not  by  the  vibrations  given  to  it  by  the 
*un  that  light  appears  to  us ;  and  may  it  not  be.  that 
every  one  of  the  infinitely  small  vibrations,  striking 
common  matter  with  a  certain  force,enter  its  substance, 
%re  held  there  by  attraction,  and  augmented  by  suc 
ceeding  vibrations,  till  the  matter  has  received  as 
much  as  their  force  can  drive  into  it  ? 

Is  it  not  thus  that  the  surface  of  this  globe  is  con 
tinually  heated  by  such  repeated  vibrations  in  the 
day,  and  cooled  by  the  escape  of  that  heat  when 
those  vibrations  are  discontinued  in  the  night,  or  in 
tercepted  and  reflected  bv  clouds  ? 

Is  it  not  thus  that  fire  is  amassed,  and  makes  the 
greatest  part  of  the  substance  of  combustible  bodies? 

Perhaps  when  this  globe  was  first  formed,  and  it* 
original  particles  took  their  place  at  certain  distances 
from  the  centre,  in  proportion  to  their  greater  or  les  i 
gravity,  fhe  fluid  lire,  attracted  towards  that  ceMre, 
might  in  great  part  be  obliged,  as  lightest,  to  taka 
place  above  the  rest,  and  thus  form  the  sphere  ol  firtl 
above  supposed,  which  would  afterwards  be  coniimi* 
ally  diminishing  by  the  substance  it  afforded  to  organ  • 


f90  ESSAYS. 

ized  bodies;  and  the  quantity  restored  Jo  it  again  by 
ihe  burning  or  other  separating  of  the  parts  of  those 
todies. 

Is  not  the  natural  heat  of  auimals  thus  produced, 
by  separating  in  digestion  the  parts  of  food,  and  set 
ting  their  fire  at  liberty  ? 

Is  it  not  thlr  sphere  of  fire  which  kindles  the  waa 
tiering  globes  that  sometimes  pass  through  it  in  ow 
Bourse  round  the  sun,  have  their  surface  kindled  by 
t,  and  burst  when  their  included  air  is  greatly  rari 
fed  by  the  heat  on  tho  burning  surfaces ? 


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